CIHM 

Microfiche 

Series 

(Monograplis) 


iCMH 

Collection  de 

microficties 

(monographies) 


CaiMdiMi  Imtitut*  for  HiMoriMi  Mieror«pre*ictte«w  /  InMitiit  caiwdiMi  tft 


Technicat  and  BibHographic  Notes  /  Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  for  fHmlng.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  btbliographicaliy  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
signlfieantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 


Cotoured  covers/ 
Couvertwede  couleur 


□ Covwnsttemaged/ 
Couverture  mdommagie 

□ Covers  restored  wid/br  laminated  / 
Couvertim  leMttJiie  eMw  pMnMe 

I      Cover  title  missing /Letitredecouverture  manque 

I      Cotoured  maps  /  Cartes  g^raphiques  en  couleur 


□ 
□ 
□ 


□ 


□ 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)  / 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations  / 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material  / 
Relid  avec  d'autres  documents 

Only  edition  available  / 
Seule  Edition  disponibie 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion  along 
interior  margin  /  La  reliure  serrte  peut  causer  de 
ron^  ou  de  la  distortion  le  long  de  la  marge 
MMttfft. 

Blank  leaves  added  during  rwtoratiorw  may  appear 

within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have  been 
omitted  from  filming  /  II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages 
blanches  ajout^es  lors  d'une  restauration 
apparaissent  dans  le  texte,  mais,  lorsque  cela  MM 
possible,  ces  pages  n'ont  pas  M  filmtes. 

Additional  comments  / 
Commentaires  suppldmentaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
4t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  cet  exem- 
plaire qui  sont  peut-6tre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  image  reproduite. 
ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modification  dans  la  m^tho- 
da  nowarie  de  WnnQO  sont  indlquii  ci-desious. 

I    I  Cotoured  pages  /  Pages  de  couleur 

1    I  Pages  dami^/ Pages  endommagtes 


Pages  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Pages  restaurtes  et/ou  peUcjItes 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed  / 
Pages  dteoiories,  tachettes  ou  piqutes 


□ 

I    I  Pagoe detached/ 

Showthrough  /  Transparence 


Quality  of  print  varies  / 
Quanta  in^le  de  rimpresston 

includes  supplementary  material  / 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppMmentaire 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  envta  slips, 
tissues,  etc.,  have  been  rsfHmed  to  erwure  the  best 
possible  image  /  Les  pages  tctalement  ou 
partiellement  obscurcies  par  un  feuiilet  d'errata,  une 
ptium,  etc.,  ont  #lft  ffimtea  i  nouveau  de  fa^  k 
obtenir  hi  meitteure  knaoe  poeeible. 

Opposing  pages  with  varying  colouration  or 
discolourations  are  filmed  twice  to  ensure  the  best 
possible  image  /  Les  pages  s'opposant  ayant  des 
cotorations  variables  ou  des  dteolorations  sont 
fiim^es  deux  tola  a8n  d'obtenir  la  fneMaune  bnme 
possible. 


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□ 
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□ 


This  Htm  is  f  UiMe  at  tte  raewetiofl  ralie  chMlwd  bttow  / 

^MMMMMt        iiynA  Aia  teew 


lOx 


14x 


18x 


22x 


26x 


30x 


12X 


tlx 


24x 


I   I   I   I   I   I  I 


28x 


32x 


Th«  eo9V  filmed  h«r«  hat  bMn  raproAtMd  thwikt  L'«x«mplair«  film4  fut  rtproduit  grle«  1  la 

t»  th*  9«n«rMitv  of:  gAnAretit*  d«: 


Th«  imag«a  appearing  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
poasibia  contidaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tfM 
fiiming  eon 'Tact  apacifications. 


Original  copiaa  in  printad  papar  eovara  ara  fllmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  cavar  aiHl  andlng  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
sion,  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriate.  All 
othar  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  tha 
firat  paga  with  a  printad  or  illustrated  impraa* 
^en.  and  ending  on  tha  last  paga  with  a  prbiiad 
Of  MiatvMad  impraasion. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  — ^  (meaning  "CON* 
TINUiO"K  or  the  symbol  ▼  (moaning  "END"), 
wmvnwwv  sppfiOT* 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  ara  filmed 
baginnhig  in  tha  upper  left  hand  comer,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  ss 
required.  The  following  diagrama  illustrate  the 
method: 


Lea  images  suivantes  ont  M  raproduites  avec  la 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  et 
da  la  nenet*  de  I'exemplaira  film*,  at  an 
eonformit*  avec  lea  canditions  du  contrat  de 
fHmaga. 

Las  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
paplar  eat  imprim4a  aont  filmia  an  commandant 
par  !e  premier  plat  at  an  tarminant  soit  par  la 
darniire  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impreasion  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  la  cas.  Tous  las  autres  exemplairea 
originaux  sont  fitmda  en  commenpant  par  la 
pramiAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
dimpreaaion  ou  d'illuatratlon  et  en  terminant  par 
la  derniAre  paga  qui  eomporta  una  telle 
amprainta. 

(In  daa  aymbolea  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
damMra  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  seion  le 
cas:  la  symbola       aignifia  "A  SUIVRE".  la 
symbola  ▼  aignifia  "FIN". 

Lea  cartes,  plenches,  tablaeux.  etc..  pauvent  itre 
filmis  A  des  taux  de  reduction  diffirents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  itre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clieh*.  il  est  film*  i  partir 
de  I'sngla  supArteur  gauche,  de  gauche  i  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas.  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'imeges  nicessaire.  Lea  Maframmaa  tui^nta 
illuatrant  la  mithode. 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

MICROCOPY  RESOIUTION  TEST  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No  2) 


A  TRILOGY  OF  DESIRE 


I— THE  FINANCIER 
* — THE  TITAN 

3    * ***••**« 


I 


i 


THE 

TITAN 

BY 

AUTROK  or 

**nn  piMANciE*,"  "sism  cmmo,'* 

AMD  "JBHMIBCBBHAKOX" 

NEW  YORK:  JOHN  LANE  COMPANY 
lONDON:  JOHN  LANE,  THE  BODLEY  HEAD 
TOBONTO:  BELLftOOCKBUXN  MCMXIV 

ksz 

TS 

comuoar,  1914,  ir 

JOWl  LAMM  COMTAirr 


CONTENTS 

Tm  Ntir  Cm   *^ 

II.  A  REcoNNoim  ••••  6 

III.  A  Chicago  Evening                                .  14 

IV.  Peter  Laughun  tt  Co   ai 

V.  CoMcnumra  a  Wmt  amp  FA«ai.r  

VI.  The  New  Qubim  C9  m  Hota   31 

VII.  Chicago  Gas   39 

VIII.  Now  This  Is  Fighting   47 

IX.  Seascb  or  Vicroftr   54 

X.  A  Test   (6 

XI.  The  Fruits  of  Daring   74 

Xn.      A  Niw  RiTAnnn   Is 

XIIL     The  Die  Is  Cast   9) 

XIV.  Undercurrents   ic6 

XV.  A  New  ArrscnoN   119 

XVI.  A  FATBVta  Imtbrludb   is6 

XVII.  An  Overture  to  CowrucT   1)5 

XVIII.  The  Cuash   141 

XIX.  **Hna.  Hath  No  Fctit— *   i^i 

XX.  "Man  and  SurERMAN"   160 

XXI.  A  Matter  op  Tunnels   166 

XXII.  Street-railways  at  Last   177 

XXni.  Thb  Pown  or  ram  Pkm             .         .  185 

XXIV.  The  Coming  of  Stephanie  Platow  ....  199 

XXV.  Airs  from  the  Orient   208 

XXVI.  Love  and  War   214 

XXVII.  A  FiNAMcnR  BiwncHn)  ........  224 

XXVIIL  Thb  Exposurb  op  Stbpbamib    ......  231 


a»n*ENTs 

XXDL     A  Family  Quakul   241 

XXX.  Obstacles   251 

XXXI.  Untoward  Disclosuebs  3^ 

XXXII.  A  Supper  Partt   266 

XXXIII.  M».  Lyndb  to  the  Rbscoi   276 

XXXIV.  Enter  Hosmer  Hand   2S4 

XXXV.  A  Political  Agreement   3^ 

XXXVI.  An  Election  Draws  Near    ......  jca 

XXXVII.  Ailben's  Rbvbngb   jq§ 

XXXVIII.  An  Hour  of  Defeat  

XXXIX.  Thb  New  Administration   332 

XL.         A  Trip  to  Louisville  

XLI.  The  Daughtbr  or  Mm.  Fumifo  ....  351 

XLII.       F.  A.  Cowperwood,  Gumuman   356 

XLIII.      The  Planet  Mars   363 

XLIV.      A  Francrmb  Obtaimbo  •  •  •  373 

XLV.        Changing  Horizons   390 

XL VI.       Depths  and  Heights   3$^ 

XLVII.      American  Match   «qg 

XLVIII.     Panic  [  ^ 

XLIX.      Mount  Olympus   ^2 

L.            A  New  York  Mansion   ^^6 

LI.           The  Rbtital  or  Hathe  Starr   ^3 

LIL         Behind  thb  Abbas  

LIII.         A  Declaration  of  Love  

LIV.  Wanted— Fifty-year  Franchises    ....  470 

LV.  COWPBBWOOO  AND  THB  GoVBftimB     .    .  .483 

LVI.         The  Ordeal  of  Berenicb  

LVII.        Ailben's  Last  Card  

LVIII.  A  Marauder  Upon  the  Commonwealth  .   .  511 

LIX.  Capital  and  Public  RKam  ......  519 

LX.         The  Net  

LXI.        The  Cataclysm   532 

LXIL       Thb  RBCcMramB  


THE  TITAN 


THE  TITAN 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  NEW  CnY 

WHEN  Frank  Aleemon  Cowperwood  emerged  from  the 
Eastern  Distnct  Penitenttaiy)!  in  Phibdclphia  he 
realized  that  the  old  Kfe  he  had  Kved  hi  that  city  smce 
boyhood  was  ended.  His  youth  was  gone,  and  with  it  had 
been  imt  the  great  business  prospects  of  his  earlier  man- 
hood.  He  must  begin  again.  . 

It  would  be  useless  to  repeat  how  a  second  panic  foUowmg 
upon  a  tiemendous  failure— that  of  Jav  Cooke  &  Co.— 
had  placed  a  second  fortmie  in  hit  hands.  This  restored 
wealth  softened  him  in  some  degree.  Fate  seemed  to  haw 
his  personal  welfare  in  charge.  He  was  sick  of  the  stock- 
e»»ange,  anyhow,  as  a  means  of  livelihood,  and  now 
decided  that  he  would  leave  it  once  and  for  all.   He  would 

St  in  something  else — street-railways,  land  deals,  some  of 
e  boundkis  opportunities  of  the  far  West.  Philadelphia 
was  DO  knaer  pleasing  to  him.  Though  now  free  and  rich, 
he  was  sdlTa  scandal  to  the  pretenders,  and  the  financial 
and  social  worid  was  not  prepared  to  accept  him.  He 
must  go  his  wajr  alone,  unaided,  or  only  secretly  so,  while 
his  quondam  friends  watched  his  career  froni  afar.  So, 
dttnimt  ct  diis,  he  took  the  train  one  day,  his  charming 
mistress,  now  only  twenty-six,  coming  to  the  staticm  to  sec 
him  off.  He  looked  at  her  quite  tenderly,  for  she  was  the 
quintessence  of  a  certain  type  of  feminine  beautv. 

"By-by,  dearie,"  he  smiled,  as  the  train-bell  sigpaled 
the  approaching  departure.  "Ymi  and  I  will  get  eitt  of 
this  iiimrtlf.  Don't  grim  tU  he  htck  in  two  or  thnt 
1  I 


THE  TITAN 

weeks,  or  I'll  send  for  you.  I'd  take  you  now,  onl/ 1  don't 
know  how  that  country  is  out  there.  We'll  fix  on  some 
plaM,  and  mm  you  watdi  me  settle  this  fortune  question. 
We  U  not  live  under  a  cloud  always.  I'll  get  a  divorce^ 
and  we'll  marry,  and  things  will  come  ri^t  with  a  banc. 
Money  will  do  that." 

He  looked  at  her  with  his  large,  cool,  penetratuit  eyet» 
and  she  clasped  his  cheeks  between  her  hands. 

"Oh,  Frank/'  she  exdaimed,  *'rn  miss  you  so!  You're 
all  I  have." 

weeks,"  he  smiled,  as  the  train  began  to  move, 
l  U  wire  or  be  back.    Be  good,  sweet." 

She  followed  him  with  adoring  eyes — a  fool  of  love,  a 
spoiled  child,  a  family  pet,  amorous,  eager,  affectionate^ 
pe  tjrpe  ao  strong  a  man  would  naturally  Uke— die  ton^ 
ner  pretty  red  gold  head  and  waved  him  a  kiss.  Then  she 
walked  away  with  rich,  sinuous,  healthy  strides—^  type 
that  men  turn  to  look  after. 

"That's  her— that's  that  Butler  girl,"  observed  one 
railroad  clerk  to  another.  "Geel  a  man  wouldn't  want 
anything  better  than  that,  would  he?" 
,  "  7'^  ^*  spontaneous  tribute  that  passion  and  envy 
mvanably  pay  to  health  and  htuaty.  On  that  pivot 
•wings  the  world. 

^fc▼er  m  all  his  life  until  this  trip  had  Cowperwood  been 
farther  west  than  Pittsburg.  His  amazing  commercial 
adventures,  bnlliant  as  they  were,  had  been  almost  ex- 
dimvely  confined  to  the  duU,  staid  world  of  Philadelphia, 
with  Its  sweet  refinement  in  sections,  its  pretensions  to 
American  social  supremacy,  its  cool  arrogation  of  tradi- 
tKMial  leadership  in  commercial  life,  its  history,  conser- 
vative wealth,  unctuous  respectability,  and  all  the  tastes 
and  avocations  which  these  imply.  He  had,  as  he  recalled, 
aimoet  ra^iered  ttat  pretty  worid  and  made  its  sacred 
precincts  his  own  when  the  crash  came.  Practically  he 
had  been  admitted.  Now  he  was  an  Ishmael,  an  ex- 
convict,  albeit  a  millionaire.  But  wait!  The  race  is  to 
the  swift,  he  said  to  himself  over  and  over.  Yes,  and  the 
batde  IS  to  die  strong.  He  would  test  wfaethflr  the  wodd 
my  tftm^ie  hm  mdar  foot  or  no. 

a 


THE  NEW  CITY 

Cycago,  ^Atm  it  finaOy  dawned  on  him,  came  with  a  ruA 
on  AcTond  morning.   He  had  n>«ntt;^Jf»{J»^^ 
Mudy  Pullman  then  provided-a  car  mtended  to  ^ 
&  wme  of  the  inconveniences  of  its  ^r^^^^'^'f^'^lK^ 
^er-elaboration  of  plush  and  tortured  g'«s-when  tne  fort 
lone  outposts  of  the  prairie  metropofis  began  to  app^. 
^e  sid^ckt  along  the  roao-bed  over  ^J><=b 
speeding  became  more  and  mo«  ^^"^^^  ^^"^Hi 
^  more  and  more  hung  with  anni  and  ""^S 
ffick  with  wires.    In  the  far  distance,  "t™*^*  ™J 
h-re  and  there,  a  lone  working-man's  <^»K«? 
^me  adventurous  soul  who  had  P^'f  ^I^I^^JL"!^^! 
far  out  in  order  to  reap  the  small  but  certain  advantage 
which  the  growth  of  the  dty  would  bnng^ 

The  lanJ  was  flat-aa  iat  as  a  table--with  a  waninj 
growth  of  brown  grass  left  oyer  from  the  P«^««  y«^^» 
*  irring  faintly  in  themoinMgbre^  £i  rf^  disJ^ri- 
signs  of  the  new  green-^  New  YeM'a  fag  of  «»J^»55« 
tiSn.   For  some  reason  a  civstallme  »«n<>«Pj««  "J^fJ 
the  distant  hazy  outlines  of  the  aty,  holdmg  the  latter  like  a 
fly  in  amber  anS  giving  it  an  P^^r'^^J^J^'t 
him.   Already  a  devotee  of  art,  ambitious  for  con»o«5«^ 
ship,  who  had  had  his  ioy,  training,  ^i.^"^'?^^ 
colC;^  be  had  ma^  «id  loi*  m  Pbj.»  W^li!™  E 
predated  afanort  eveiy  mgfftinii  of  a  defag|itf«»  P»««« 

""TKTtracks,  side  by  side,  were  becoming  more  and  more 
numerous.    Freight-cars  were  assembled  here  bv  thousands 
from  all  parts  of  the  country— yellow,  red,  blue,  pten, 
white.    (Chicago,  he  recalled,  already  had  thirty  raifio'ds 
terminating  here,  as  though  it  were  the  end  of  the  worl<U 
The  little  low  one  and  two  story  houses,  quite  new  at 
wad,  were  htqweOf  unpamted  and  already  smoky—in 
places  grimy.    At  grade-crossings,  where  ambling  strert- 
cars  and  wagons  and  muddy-wheeled  buMies  waited,  he 
BOied  how  flat  the  rtreets  were,  how  unpaved,  how  sidewalks 
went  up  and  down  rhythmically— here  a  flight  of  steps, 
a  veritable  platform  before  a  house,  there  a  loiig  st^h  of 
boards  laid  flat  on  the  mud  of  the  praine  itself,    wnat  a 
city!   Presently  a  branch  of  the^Ehhy, 
sufficient  little  Chicago  River  came  «Wtlg«r»  mm  mmm 


THE  TITAN 


of  •puttering  tugt»  its  black,  ml^  water,  its  tall,  red,  brown, 
and  green  ^rain-elevators,  its  immense  black  coal-pockets 
and  yellowish-brown  lumber-yards. 

Here  was  life;  he  saw  it  at  a  flash.  Here  was  a  seedling 
city  in  the  making.  There  was  somethine  dynamic  in  the 
very  air  which  appealed  to  his  fancy.  How  different,  for 
some  reason,  from  Philadelphia!  That  was  a  stirring  city, 
too.  He  had  thought  it  wonderful  at  one  time,  quite  a 
world;  but  this  thing,  while  obviously  infinitely  worse, 
was  better.  It  was  more  youthful,  more  hopeful.  In  a 
flare  of  morning  sunlight  pouring  between  two  coal-pockets, 
and  because  the  train  had  stopped  to  let  a  bridge  swing 
and  half  a  dozen  great  grain  and  lumber  boats  go  by— a 
half-dozen  in  either  direction  —  he  saw  a  group  of  Irish 
stevedores  idling  on  die  bank  of  a  lumbep«]^?d  whose  wdl 
skirted  the  water.  Healthy  men  they  were,  in  blue  or  red 
slurt-skeves,  stout  straps  about  their  waitts»  diort  pipes 
in  didr  nmuths,  fine,  nardy,  nutty-brown  spedmois  of 
humanity.  Why  were  they  so  appealing,  he  asked  himself. 
This  rawj  dirty  town  seemed  naturally  to  compose  itself 
mto  sd^v  afttsde  pictures.  Why^  k  fairiy  sangl  The 
world  was  youne  here.  Life  was  doine  something  new. 
Perhaps  he  had  better  not  go  on  to  the  I^orthwest  at  all; 
he  would  decide  that  question  later. 

In  the  mean  time  he  had  letters  of  introduction  to  dis- 
dnguished  Chicagoans,  and  these  he  would  present.  He 
wanted  to  talk  to  some  bankers  and  grain  ana  commission 
men.  The  stock-exchange  of  Chicago  interested  him,  for 
the  intricacies  of  that  business  he  knew  backward  and  for- 
ward, md  some  great  grain  transactions  had  been  made  hen. 

The  train  finally  rolled  past  the  shabby  backs  of  houses 
into  a  long,  shabbily  covered  series  'of  platforms — sheds 
havmg  (mlv  roofs — and  amidst  a  clatter  of  trucks  haulii^ 
trunks,  and  eneines  belching  steam,  and  passengers  hurry- 
ing to  and  fro  he  made  his  way  out  into  Car  al  Street  and 
haded  a  wutii^  cab— one  <^  a  Umz  line  of  vehicles  that 
bespoke  a  metropolitan  spirit.  He  had  fixed  on  the 
Grand  Pacific  as  the  most  important  hotel — the  one  with 
the  most  :social  significance — and  thither  he  asked  to  be 
driven.  C>n  the  way  he  studied  these  streets  as  in  the 
matter  of  art  he  would  have  studied  a  picture.   The  litde 

4 


THE  NEW  CITY 
11  -  ki.,.  tn^n  white,  and  brown  street-cars  which  he 


CHAPTER  II 

A  EICOMNOrmt 

THE  city  of  Chicago,  with  whose  development  the  per- 
sonality  of  Frank  Algernon  Cowperwood  wat  soon  to 
be  definitely  linked!  To  whom  may  the  laurels  as  laureate 
of  this  Florence  of  the  West  yet  fall?  This  singing  flame 
of  a  city,  this  all  America,  this  poet  in  diaps  ancT  buck- 
sk'*  this  rude,  raw  Titan,  this  Bums  of  a  city!  By  its 
sht.nniering  lake  it  lay,  a  king  of  shreds  and  patches,  a 
maundeni^  yokel  with  an  epic  in  its  mouth,  a  tramp,  a 
hobo  among  cities,  with  the  grip  of  Caesar  in  its  mind,  the 
dramatic  force  of  Euripides  in  its  soul.  A  very  bard  of  a 
city  this,  singing  of  high  deeds  and  hieh  hopes,  its  heavy 
br^ns  buried  deep  in  the  mire  of  circumstance.  Take 
Athens,  oh,  Greece!  Italy,  do  you  keep  Rome!  This  was 
the  Babylon,  the  Troy,  the  Nineveh  of  a  voun^r  day. 
Here  came  the  gaping  West  and  the  hopeful  East  to  see. 
Here  hun^  men,  raw  from  the  shops  and  fields,  idyls  and 
romances  in  their  minds,  btuhted  them  an  empire  cryinc 
glory  in  the  mud. 

From  New  York,  Vermont,  New  Hampshire,  Maine  had 
come  a  strange  company,  earnest,  patient,  determined,  un- 
schooled m  even  the  primer  of  refinement,  hungry  for  some- 
thing the  significance  of  which,  when  they  had  it,  they 
could  not  even  guess,  anxious  to  be  called  great,  determined 
so  to  be  without  ever  knowing  how.  Here  came  the 
dreamy  gentleman  of  the  South,  robbed  of  his  patrimony; 
the  hopeful  student  of  Yale  and  Harvard  and  Princeton;  the 
enfranchised  miner  of  California  and  the  Rockies,  his  bags 
of  gold  and  silver  m  his  hands.  Here  was  already  the  bewil- 
dered foreigner,  an  alien  speech  confounding  him— the  Hun, 
AcPole,  the  Swede,  the  German,  the  Russian— seeking  hit 
heamy  o(Momet»  fearing  his  nd|^b(«  ot  ai»dier  face* 

6 


A  RECONNOITER 

Here  wa«  the  negro,  the  prostitute,  the  Mackkj,  ^ 
hler.  Se  romantiradvcnturer  ^ar  '^^'^^f  ,  f  "Jd^S 
hut  a  handful  of  the  native-bom;  a  city  P^^M  ""fj; 

oflthe  riffraflF  of  a  thousand  towns.   FJaruig  were  the 
Sht.  of  AebaSoi  tinkling  the  banjos  »tfc«r^  mandolins 
^^LSwS^milU  all  the  dreams  and  the  bnitahty  of 
1  da?^22SS*ered  to  rejoice  ^jgt 
this  new-found  wonder  cf  a  metropoUttii  life  n  tte  W«rt. 

The  first  prominent  ai««oan  whom  Cowp«fwood  tou^ 
out  was  the  president  of  the  ^f^^S^'^y.^^^^^^^^^iy^ 
UiM  finanaal  c^aniKition  in  the  city,  with  depf«»  « 
ov^ou^milliSn  dollars.   It  was  located  in  ferborn 
at  Munroe,  but  »  block  or  two  from  his  hotel. 

the  ptaident  of  the  bulk,  on  taut  him  enter  the  preadeMTl 

'MSKX  wh.  «.  .rrang^i  mth  gl." 

STraUy^^^l  *:  Sok^" «r.ng.ly  «p"^ 
man  of  thirtv-six—suavt;,  steady,  mcisive,  with  eyet  «• 
fine  a.  thSa  N^Xm^Uand  or  a^CoUie  and  as  innocent 
Ind  They  wer;  wonderful  eyes,  soft  and  spring- 

Uke  Tt  dmes  glowing  with  a  rich,  human  undemanding 
Whkh  oS  SWan?  could  harden  and  flash  lightning 
D^ptWe  ^esTWeadable,  but  allurin.  ahke  to  men  and 
to  women  in  all  walks  and  condmons  of  Itfe. 

The  secretary  addressed  came  back  with  Cowpeiwood  s 
le^oflS7cti?n"ndimmediatelyCowprwo^^^ 

Mr.  Addison  instinctively  aroK-a  thm« 
always  do.  "I'm  pleased  to  meet  you,  Mr  C^JP^IJ'^'"' 
he  said,  politely.   " I  saw  you  come  m  just  now. 
how  I  kelep  my  windows  here,  so  as  to  spy  out  the  country. 
St  down.   You  wouldn'i:  like  an  apple,  would  you  r  He 
opened  a  left-hand  draw  ;r,  oroducmg  Mveralpolish^  r^ 
Xesaps,  one  of  which  he  >eld  o«.  n  rfwayi  t»  one 


THE  TITAN 


^g^rtiii^  as  he  did  so  h,.  ho^'.tttnperameii  menS 
caliber.  I  never  eat  between  meals,  but  I  apDreciate 
^hnL^i'^J  just  passing  through  Chic^  «d  f 
thought  I  would  present  this  letter  now  rather  2S  Uter 
I  thought  you  nught  teU  me  a  little  aUrat  the^  fi««Jl' 
uivestment  point  of  view."  we  aty  from  «i 

As  Cowperwood  talked,  Addison,  a  siwrt.  heaw  r..K;. 

k**"  '^"K**^  twinkling  gray  eyes— a  oroud 

man-munchel  WapplTil^' 
templated  Cowperwood.  As  s  so  often  the  mm.  ^lifTul 
frequently  UkeTor  didiked  people  on  dgh^  Sd  h"  n^ld 
himself  on  h  s  judgment  of  AlmTfo^fy^ff^ 

Mj^j^ensely  his  supenor--iiot  becaiue  of  tL  Diexel  letter 

«J  ik'^^i'^  °^  *  "undoubted  finainS  «5u?' 

and  the  advantage  it  would  be  to  Chicago  to  havThfm 

^1"  'cS^^i}?*"*  ^       -wimmbrw^der  of  h^ 
'  personality,  while  maintaining  m 

teSr^JS^^f ^'^'^  Philadelphia  f» thl^ubS 
.^.Sld^S^.  K.^*^"  '''^  ^r"'''*^^  »  church-membe^ 
fwi!L2?^*  . J  represented  a  point  of  view  to  which 
SSS^rT"  have  stooped.    Both  men  we« 

rutwess  after  their  fashion,  avid  of  a  phy  al  life-  hnt 

him  subscribed  to  nothSrrMo  t'ik  slJe't^Si^^! 
""^wt  rS^rS'^  spiritually,  and  did  Js  KXTJd  ^ 
Why,  I II  tell  you,  Mr.  Cbwperwood,"  AdSison  reolied 
We  people  out  here  in  Chicago  think  ^  well  of  ^2*2; 
that  sometimes  we're  afraid  to  say  all  ^  tlbk  fo?f^ 
fn  he^ain  v"iK  ««"vag,nt.  We're  like  the  you^st  .^^ 
in  he  family  that  krows  he  can  lick  all  tilt  odlMnL  Kh» 
doesn't  want  to  do  it-not  just  yet. 


A  RECONNOITER 

some  u  we  might  be— did  you  ever  sec  a  growing  boy  that 
wa"?-J>ut  WS  ib«Hit4  tare  that  W«  rwig  to  be. 
Our  pants  and  shoes  and  coat  and  hat  get  too  small  for  ui 
every  six  months,  and  so  we  don't  look  very  fashionable, 
but^Aere  are  big,  stioiig,  hard  muKJea  and  bones  under- 
neath, Mr.  CowperwoodTas  you'll  discover  when  you  get 
to  looking  around.  Then  you  won't  mmd  the  dotbes  so 

Mr.  Addison's  round,  frank  eyes  narrowed  and  harden^ 
for  a  moment.  A  kind  of  metallic  hardness  came  mto  M 
voice.  Cowperwood  could  see  that  he  was  honestly  enam- 
oured of  his  adopted  city.  Chicaeo  was  his  most  bdov^ 
mistress.  A  moment  later  the  flesh  aboirt  his  ey«  ct^^ 
his  mouth  softened,  and  he  smiled.  "HI  be  glad  to  tell 
you  anything  I  can,"  he  went  on.  "There  are  a  lot  of 
mterestmg  things  to  tell."   ...  •   i  ti. 

Cowperwood  beamed  back  on  him  encouragingly.  He 
inquired  after  the  condition  of  one  indjutry  and  another, 
one  trade  or  profession  and  another.  This  was  somewhat 
different  from  the  atmosphere  which  prevailed  m  Phila- 
delphia—more  breeiy  and  mdmous.  The  tendency  to 
expatiate  and  make  much  of  local  advantages  was  Western. 
He  liked  it,  however,  as  one  aspect  of  Ufe,  whether  he  chose 
to  share  in  it  or  not.  It  was  favorable  to  his  own  future. 
He  had  a  prison  record  to  live  down;  a  wife  and  two  children 
to  get  rid  of— in  the  legal  senae.  at  least  (he  had  no  desire 
to  rid  himself  of  financial  obBgation  toward  them).  It 
would  take  some  such  loose,  enttiusiastic  Western  attitude 
to  forgive  in  him  the  strength  and  freedom  with  which  he 
ignored  and  refused  to  accept  for  himself  current  conven- 
Soau  /  satisfy  myself  was  his  private  law,  but  so  to  do 
1m  must  assuage  and  control  the  prejudices  of  other  men. 
He  fck  that  this  banker,  while  not  putty  in  his  hands,  was 
icdmed  to  a  strong  and  useful  friendship.  w 

"My  impressions  of  the  city  are  entirely  favorable, 
Addison,"  hr  said,  after  a  time,  though  he  inwardly  admitted 
to  himself  that  this  was  not  entirely  true;  he  was  not 
sure  whether  he  could  bring  himself  ultimately  to  hve  m 
so  excavated  and  scaffolded  a  world  as  this  or  not.  I  only 
saw  a  portion  of  it  coming  in  on  the  train.  I  like  tw 
thf«*tF-  I  bdievc  Chicago  has  a  future." 

9 


THE  TITAN 

iJdkSL  fc!SJ*^iv^  y»yne,  I  presume,"  replied 
S!^^'''^*    You  taw  the  worn  iectkm.  Youmiut 

•re  you  atawi^f  ••^  wmv 

;;At  the  Gnuid  Pkdfic." 
,  How  long  will  you  be  here?" 
^Nct  more  than  a  day  or  two." 
Let  me  aee,"  and  Mr.  Addiion  drew  out  his  watch 

m«-and  we  have  a  htde  lumWroom  over  at  the  UnioS 
wwtjie  Uub  where  w«  drop  m  now  and  then.  If  you'd 
a^re  to  dp  K>,  I'd  like  to  have  vou  come  along  with  L  wt 

one.  WeresuretofindafewofWm-«wierfourJa™ffc 
busmess  men,  and  judges.  «w  wwjbi*, 

"YW«  rn^ii  ^  Sif  PWl»deIphian,  simply. 

neoSL  I  generous.  There  are  one  or  two  othJr 

people  I  want  to  meet  m  between,  and"— he  aitMe  and 
forked  at  his  own  watch-"I'll  fiS^SSoiOiTwhS. 
nAeofficeof AmeelaECo.r  wn»B 

in^lMf  ♦k"**^  9"^'  noontime  luncheon,  after  talk- 

ing with  the  portly,  conservative,  aggressive  Araiel  and  dTe 
tarird  stock-exchaSle.  Cbw^^^  mef! 

ri?;  fiv^^!!:^  °i  T"  ^K*^  from  thirty-five  to 

^itVu  ^""'^^""^  ^^i'i!?  ^^^^^  >  private  dinn^ 
room  of  heavily  carved  black  wabut,  with  pictures  ofddSr 

Enfm;^  i^'"''      '^^^  '^i*^?^'-   There  were  shorTaS 

MO  J«wi  Winch  yaned  ftom  those  of  the  tieer.  Ivnx  and 

buuZ  '^^Th  ^^'^^      *^f.^^"^  mastiff^lnd  iuri? 

bulldog.  There  were  no  weaklingi  in  thit  lelected  coJ 

hiM   ^""u^  Addison  Cowperwood  approved  of 

eif&m  1"^*^'  "^""SS"''?? Another  who  inte^ 
!.!!!i^^_Ap«°»  Merrill,  a  small,  oolite,  rec/urche  soul, 
•ttgiertmf  manMOM  »d  footmen  airf  wnwie  iunw^ 


A  RECONNOITER 

erallv,  who  wa.  pointed  out  ^V.^^^^^^^SSSA 
aooL  prince  of  that  name,  quite  iMAng  mMOMK,  ■ 
fktTwtail  and  wholesale  sense,  in  Chicago. 

**RambI'JS^^^'.p«e,  pale,  black-beardrf  man  of 

m^h  '•-tter  taste  than  some  of  the  othew-!"?''"  " 
^  shrewdly  ^  rffe',;''^^ 
a  gracious,  emtmatie  tllBle.  ,™  "f  "<R,  ^  Cowiiet^ 

d^^imcv  sympathy,  and  chicanery  in  the  contfoUii^  poop 

least,  the  temperament  and  it  is  & 

in  another  city  is  not  so  much,  and  yet  it  /^nj  ^ 
Cnwoerwood  had  pMted  company  with  the  laea  uiai 
£:;;j:i^anTanS^undera^^  T  ^ISS^^t 
or  otherwise,  is  in  any  way  different.  To  torn  the  m«rt 
Noteworthy  characteristic  of  the  human  race  ™J»»f.Vl™ 
Srangely  ^hemic,  beine  anydiing  no^u^^s^t^J^ 
and  le  condition  afforSed.  .  In """Jf^JJ^ 
free  from  practical  calculation,  which  were  "ot  man3j--ne 
often^culated  as  to  what  life  really  was.    If  he  had  not 

which  control  material  things  and  to  represent  weal'-Ji. 

II 


THE  TITAN 

West— to  seize  upon,  if  he  might,  certain  well-springs  of 
wealth  and  power  and  rise  to  recognized  authority.  In  his 
morning  talks  he  had  learned  of  the  extent  and  character  of 
dse  itock-yards*  enterprises,  of  the  great  railroad  and  ship 
interests,  of  the  tremendous  rising  importance  of  real  estate, 
nam  speculation,  the  hotel  business,  die  hardware  business. 
He  naa  learned  dF  universal  manufacturing  companies — one 
that  made  cars,  another  elevators,  another  binders,  another 
^rindnulls,  anodier  engines.  Apparently,  any  new  industiy 
•eemdl  to  ^  wdl  in  Chicaso.  In  his  talk  with  the  one  di- 
rector of  the  Board  of  Trade  to  whom  he  had  a  letter  he  had 
^rned  that  few,  if  any,  local  stocks  were  dealt  in  on  'change. 
Wheat,  com,  and  grains  of  all  kinds  were  principally 
speculated  in.  The  big  stocks  of  the  East  wereeambled  in 
by  way  of  leased  wires  on  the  New  York  Stock  F^r^^iPff — 
not  otherwise. 

As  he  looked  at  these  men,  all  pleasantly  civil,  all  general 
in  their  remarks,  each  safely  keeping  his  vast  plans  under 
his  vest,  Cowperwood  wondered  how  he  would  hn  in  diis 
conimunity.  There  were  such  difficult  things  ahead  of  him 
to  do.  No  one  of  these  men,  all  of  whom  were  in  t^r 
commerdal-sociai  way  agreeable,  knew  that  he  had  only 
fecently  been  in  the  penitenriary.  How  much  difference 
would  that  make  in  their  atritude?  No  one  of  them  knew 
that,  although  he  was  married  and  had  two  children,'he  was 
plannmg  to  divorce  his  wife  and  marry  the  giri  who  had 
appropk.ated  to  herself  the  role  which  his  wife  had  once 
placed. 

*Are  you  seriously  contemplating  looking  into  the  North- 
a»ked  Mr.  Rambaud,  interestedly,  toward  the  dose 
Of  die  luncheon. 

**  That  is  my  present  plan  after  I  finish  here.  I  tfaoudit 
rd  take  a  short  run  up  there.** 

"Let  me  put  you  in  touch  with  an  interesdiig  party  diat 
IS  gpuig  as  far  as  Faigo  and  Duluth.  There  is  a  private 
car  leavmg  Thursdav,  most  of  them  citizens  of  Chicago,  but 
some  Easterners.  I  would  be  glad  to  font  you  jom  m, 
1  am  going  as  far  as  Minneapolis." 

Cowperwood  thanked  him  and  accepted.  A  long  con- 
versation followed  about  the  Northwest,  iu  timber,  wheat, 
land  sales,  cattle,  and  possible  manufactttruit  pUnts. 

IS 


A  RECONNOITER 

Wh«  Fargo.  Mi««J0«.«a^^^^^ 

thing  at  iJl-i««  ^"--^ 


CHAPTER  in 

A  CHICAGO  EVENING 


A^55ii  the  bank  over  which  Addison 

r\  presided,  and  an  informal  dinner  at  the  latter's  home, 
Cowperwood  had  decided  that  he  did  not  care  to  kuI  under 
any  ftibe  colors  so  far  as  Addison  was  concerned.  He  was 
too  mfltienttal  and  well  connected.  Besides,  Cowperwood 
liked  him  too  much.  Seeing  that  the  man'^  leanSigtoSU 
ardhim  was  strong,  in  reality  a  fascination,  he  made  an 
wly  morning  all  a  day  or  two  after  he  had  returned  from 
Farep,  whither  he  had  gone  at  Mr.  Rambaud's  suggestion, 

2  JlLTi^i^S  determined  to^unteJ; 

a  smooth  presentation  of  his  earlier  misfortunes,  and  trust 

ItAUr  ruJ  ^^"^         the  matter  in  a 

kmdly  bght.   He  told  him  the  whole  story  of  how  he  had 

^Ah^r^A'^*^''^''^  embezzlemen7in  Philadelphia 
and  had  served  out  his  term  in  the  Eastern  Penitentiary. 
He  also  mentioned  his  divorce  and  his  intention  of  raany^ 


Addison,  who  was  the  weaker  man  of  the  two  and  yet 
fV^^Sllilii"        ^V'  ^«  courageous  stand  on 

^  It  A  •  u  achieved.  It  appealed  to  his  sense 
SLn  5  J''^"?5*'-  a  n«n  who  apparenrlr  had 

forced  1.  the  mire,  and  now  he  was  coming  up  aniti  stio»». 
me?r  ii' 'of^'"'-  hTghlf^speTSS 

3i  n^'?^°  "^^"'^^  '"'y  ^^""^  "  ^  ^"  well  Twa^ 
would  not  bear  top  close  an  inspection,  but  nothing  m 
d«ught  of  that.  Some  of  them  ^re  in 'society,  S  ™ 

^  'teir*'"  e^'^*^^"!-  Why  should  mt  Cowper^ 
wood  be  allowed  to  begin  all  ovcrf  Ik  hnM  at  On 


A  CHICAGO  EVENING 


it  You  needn't  apologize  to  me.  *  "-;f"  ^  '  eye-teeth 
world  m,  ye*«  «»J  TtlL^^^  oYSisTant  and  of 

my  houte  »s  long  as  you  "J^J®        '       the  future. 

We\l  cut  our  cloth  as  «rci«Mg»«;  **Sy  Scause  I  like 
I'd  like  to  see  you  ^f^^ie  here  I'm  sure  I  can 
you  personally.  If  y^/^^^f^'^^e  D^^^^^^ 
ie  of  service  to  yo« .^nd  J®"^  anything  one  way  or 
more  about  it;  I  Aa  n  t  ev«  ^y  ^^^^^^  and  I  wish 
another.  You  have  your  own  b^^^^^ 

you  luck.  »  "^hlt  y^^^  tolf  me,  and  when  you 
r>^r  m&onS'aff^^  out  b«i.  your 

wife  out  to  see  us." 

With  these  thines  completed  Cowperwcod  took  the  train 

back  to  Philadelphia.  again-she  had 

"Meen,"  he  said,  when  these  two  mcj  b 
come  to  the  train  to  meet  him-  I  ^^^d  around  up 
answerforus    Iw^up^Fa^^^^  There^s 
there,  but  I  don  t  believe  ^e  want  w  g  country, 
nothing  but  praine-grass  and  J"^*'^**^^^^'^^^^  fie 

standthat?" 


I'd  EP  anywhere  with  you,  ^'Ji  aad  a 

I»li»  drew  with  leather  and  bead.  aU  «m  it  » 
feather  hat  like  they  wear.  Mid—  «f  li 

••There  vou  got  Certainly!  Pretty  dodw  «  » 
«iia£«rtalUKk.  That's  the  w»y. 

^5 


THE  TITAN 

backl"  Finicoiy.  Uhflmiogladtoietyoii 

"The  trouble  is,"  he  wern-  *  u 

there  isn't  as  promising  a«  rIL  '  t  \^  country  up 
to  live  in  aS^^   f^^2  l^'   I         we're  desdneS 

we'U  have  to  go  up  th^re  fi^lT'"^"*-^" 
eventually  locafe  in  ?3,S!^'T^  but  we'll 

•Joiie  again.    It  isn't  pTe^'nt  for^  «° 
hand.  ^'If  we  can't  aiSnll       u-  "queeaed  her 

"Well  1^  '^'J^^' 

Medics  ra^£^-f^^ 

Philadelphia  an^Ktr^'S  ^ 
For  a  time  there  were  meS?S?.™  J^®"^  P'^^e- 

more  espedaUy  to  OicSTtXen  ^^5^"  *°       '^^^  « 
ported  iwnetiy,  V^XTm^ZZ^*'^*  "^^"^  ^ 
his  directioTS  con«™^^         was  managing  under 
-hort  "rf  tsrar  busmess  blocks,  a 

venture  bore  thTTii.*:  of  thL  %T  o"*"  "teresting 
Transportation  Comply  of  whi^T  9°r"™«^°n  »nS 
was  president.  Hw  pftl^Li  u-  .  ^- ^wperwood 
Stw,  wa.  for  the  Sme  S  P*""  l*'^"'  Mr.  *HwtS 
loTanothefshCrt  ^riod^£^^  o/contr^ 
«  the  Tremont  in  SiSlo  i^?^^'*'^*  "ving 

because  of  Aileen's  c^mpa^^  J^^^^^^^  beinfc 
contact  with  the  im^S'^^"^^  *  n«idin? 

looked  quietly' klt??^,^?,^:^^^^^ 

wiw, wttlHW  too iiHicIl  Perwnal »teioo,,«3Sbri^^^^ 


A  CHICAGO  EVENING 

a  knowledge  <^0^^^^^^'':^^^T^TaS^ 

""■^nr^^rvVf^  the  state  of  the  growing  city. 

FrS*  she  exclaimed,  when  she  saw  the  plain. 
"Oh,  frank  I    sne  exci-uuw,         „nnleasine  business 
wooden,  fout^ory  hotd.jh  »"P^^"J^,k 

She  was  wondenng  where  ^^.^^^J^r^c^^j^  her 
woiSd  rome  in-her  opportunity  ««J*\^'-.;i*"PSf 

secret  liaison  with  him,  "*       '~        -he  had  been  his 

pStnkted  for  the  first  time  to  see  the  spagous  Ijeauty 
I^dSess  of  Prairie  Avenue,  the  North  Shore  E^nve. 
Mi^JiUpui  Avenue,  and  the  new  man«oni  «>.  Ashland 
«t  in'their  g-^  l^r?o^^"r«; 

SeTbiM'^.^d  t  feSssr 

•7 


THE  TITAN 

5«n^«»veiynew.   The  great  people  of  aicago  were 
an  newly  nch  like  themselves.   She  forgot  that  as  yet  she 
was  not  Cowpeiwood'i  wife;  she  felt  hf  rself  truly  to  be  to. 
Ihe  streets,  set  in  most  ii.  stances  with  a  pleasing  creamish- 
brown  flagging,  lined  with  young,  newly  planted  trees,  the 
lawns  sown  to  smooth  green  nass,  the  windows  of  the 
houses  tnmmcd  with  bright  awnmgs  and  hung  with  intricate 
lice,  blowing  m  a  June  breeze,  the  roadways  a  gray,  gritty 
macadam-all  these  things  touched  her  fsae^  (On  one 
drive  they  skirted  the  lake  on  the  North  Shore,  and  Aileen, 
contemplating  the  chalky,  bluish-green  waters,  the  distant 
sails,  the  gulls,  and  then  the  new  bright  homes,  reflected 
that  in  all  certitude  she  would  some  day  be  the  mistress  of 
one  of  these  splendid  mansions.   How  haughtily  she  would 
carry  herself;  how  she  would  dress!   They  would  have  a 
splen^  Souse,  much  finer,  no  doubt,  than  Frank's  old  one 
m  naaddphia,  with  a  great  ball-room  and  dining-room 
where  she  could  give  dances  and  dinners,  and  where  Frank 
and  she  would  receive  as  the  peers  of  these  Chicaio  rich 
people. 

"Do  you  suppose  we  will  ever  have  a  house  it  fine  at  one 
f.f  •  '       asked  him.  longinglv.  " 

.u-  xl  u-  y^'i  ^"  ^         "If  you  like 

this  Michigan  Avenue  section  we'll  buy  a  piece  of  property 
out  here  now  and  hold  it.  lust  as  soon  as  I  make  the  rieht 
connecaons  here  and  see  what  I  am  going  to  do  we'll  build 
ahouse-^ethmg  really  nice— don't  worry.  I  want  to 
get  this  divorce  matter  settled,  and  then  we'U  begin.  Mean- 
while, if  we  have  to  come  here,  we'd  better  live  rather 
quietly.   Don't  you  think  so?" 

It  was  now  between  five  and  six,  that  richest  portion  of  a 
summer  day  It  had  been  very  warm,  but  was  now  cool- 
ing, the  shade  of  the  western  building-line  shadowing  the 
roadway,  a  moted,  wine-like  air  filling  the  street.  As  far 
as  the  eye  could  see  were  carriaget,  the  one  great  social 
diversion  of  Chicago,  because  there  was  otherwise  so  little 
opportunity  for  many  to  show  that  they  had  means.  The 
roaal  forces  were  not  as  yet  clear  or  harmonious.  Tingling 
^ma^of  mckel,  silver,  and  even  plated  gold  were  the 
2E  g^*^  of  Boaal  hope,  if  not  of  achievement.  Here 
qiM  namrnvn  from  the  aty— from  oBkst  wuA  aanwheuay 


A  CHICAGO  EVENING 

— along  this  one  exceptional  southern  highway,  the  Via 
Appia  of  the  South  Side,  all  the  urgent  aspirants  to  nouble 
fortunes.  Men  of  wealth  who  had  met  only  casuall/  in 
trade  here  nodded  to  each  other.  Smart  daughters,  society- 
bred  sons,  handsome  wives  came  down-town  in  traps, 
Victorias,  carriages,  and  vehidet  of  the  latest  design  to 
drive  home  their  trade-weary  fathers  or  brothers,  relatives 
or  friends.  The  air  was  gay  with  a  social  hooe,  a  promise 
of  yottdi  and  affection,  and  that  fine  flush  of  flnttrial  life 
that  recreates  itself  in  delight.  Lithe,  handsome,  well-bred 
animals,  singly  and  in  jmgling  pairs,  paced  each  other 
down  the  long,  wide,  grass-lined  street,  its  fmt  hoam 
agleam  with  a  rich,  complaisant  materiality. 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Aileen,all  at  once,  seeing  the  vigorous, 
forceful  men,  the  handsome  matrons,  and  young  women  and 
boys,  the  nodding  and  the  bowing,  feeling  a  touch  of  the 
romance  and  wonder  of  it  all.  I  should  like  to  Kve  in 
Chicago.    I  believe  it's  nicer  than  Philadelphia." 

Cowperwood,  who  had^  fallen  so  low  there,  despite  his 
immense  capacity,  set  his  teeth  in  two  even  rows.  His 
handsome  mustache  seemed  at  this  moment  to  have  an 
especially  defiant  curl.  The  pair  he  was  driving  was 
physically  perfect,  lean  and  nervous,  with  spoiled,  petted 
faces.  He  could  not  endure  poor  horse-flesh.  He  drove 
as  only  a  horse-lover  can,  his  body  bojt  upright,  his  own 
eneigy  and  temperament  animating  his  animals.  AQeen 
sat  beside  him,  very  proud,  consciously  erect. 

"  Isn't  she  beauriful  ?"  some  of  the  women  observed,  as 
they  passed,  going  north.  **What  a  stunnii^  jroung  wom- 
an!" thought  or  said  the  men. 

"Did  you  see  her?"  asked  a  young  brother  of  his  sister. 

"  Never  mind,  Aileen,"  commented  Cowperwood,  with 
that  iron  determination  that  brooks  no  defeat.  "  We  will 
be  a  part  of  this.  Don't  fret.  You  will  have  everything 
you  want  in  Chicago,  and  more  besides." 

There  was  tingling  over  his  Angers,  into  the  reins,  into 
the  horses,  a  mysterious  vibratine  current  that  was  his 
dkemical  product,  dl«  off-giving  of  his  spirit  battery  that 
made  his  hired  horses  prance  like  chiidraii.  They  cha&d 
and  tossed  their  heads  and  snorted. 

Aileen  was  hMy  butsting  wUk  hopt  wai  vamiar 


THE  TITAN 

bonng.  Oh,  to  be  Mrs.  Frank  Algernon  Cowpcrwood  here 
In  Chicago,  to  have  a  splendid  mannon,  to  have  her  cards 
of  invitati(m  practically  conunandt  whidi  m^t  not  be 

**^*C^'dearr*  she  sidied  to  herself,  menuUy.  "If  only 
it  were  all  true— now?*  . 

It  is  thus  that  life  at  its  topmost  toss  irks  and  pains. 
Beyond  is  ever  the  unattainable,  the  lure  of  the  infinite 
mm  its  infinite  adhe. 


•*CMi,  lifel  oh,  youthi  oh,  hope!  oh,  years! 
Oil  |NMMvin«Bd  incy,  bcttiRK  fettii  with 


T 


CHAPTER  IV 

nTBR  LAVOBUK  ft  CO. 

HE  partnership  which  Cowperwood  eventually  made 
M.  with  an  old-time  Board  of  Trade  operator,  Peter 
Laughlin,  was  eminently  to  his  satisfaction.  Laupun  was 
a  tall,  gaunt  speculator  who  had  spent  most  of  lot  miag 
days  in  Chicago,  hin^  come  there  as  a  boy  from  w«tera 
Missouri.  He  was  a  typical  Chicago  *™S 
operator  of  the  old  school,  having^  ^'ff'^T  jy'wy*^ 
countenance,  and  a  Henry  Qay— 4)«vy  Ooosetfr— 
John"  Wentworth  ^      of  body.       ....      ■  . 

Cowperwood  froi  youth  up  had  Ind  a  omovt 
interest  in  quaint  c.>...«cters,  and  ne  was  interestmg  to 
them;  they  ^' took"  to  him.  He  could,  if  he  chose  to  take 
the  trouble,  fit  himself  in  with  the  odd  psydiolo^  of  umcMC 
any  individual.  In  his  early  peregrinations  m  La  Salle 
Street  he  inquired  after  dever  traders  on  'change,  and  thai 
gave  them  one  small  ammutsioa  after  anothor  in  order  to 

?it  acquainted.  Thus  he  tumbled  one  morning  on  old 
eter  Lau^Uin,  wheat  and  com  trader,  who  had  an  office 
in  La  Salle  Street 'near  Madison,  and  who  did  a  modeM 
business  gambling  for  himself  and  others  in  grain  and 
Eastern  railway  shares.  Laughlin  was  a  shrewd,  canny 
American,  origmally,  perhaps,  of  Scotch  extractimi.  who 
had  all  the  traditional  Amencan  blemishes  of  uncouthness, 
tobacco-chewing,  profanity,  and  other  small  vices.  Cow- 
yerwood  could  tell  foni  locttiB«  ac  kos  ^at  lie  nnt  lw«e« 
fund  of  informarion  concerning  every  current  Chicagoan 
of  importance,  and  this  fact  alone  was  certain  to  be  <^  value. 
Then  the  old  man  wat  i^tct,  ftofawydkra^  sim^-^^> 
ing,  and  wholly  unpretcPtiowi  qualitifs  wfaicfa  Cofwpowooo 
deoned  invaluable.  ... 
Onps  Of  tvioe  ni  die  last  three  yutfa  Laumj^n  had  loit 

ai 


THE  TITAN 

heayDy  on  private  "comen"  that  he  had  attempted  to 

engineer,  and  the  general  feeling  was  that  he  was  now 
becoming  caurious,  or,  in  other  words,  afraid.  "  JuK  the 
man,"  Cowperwood  thought.  So  one  morning  be  adted 
upon  Laughlin,  intending  to  open  a  small  account  with  him. 

*'Hen^,"  he  heard  the  old  man  say,  as  he  enterea 
Lat^iUn  t  fair-nzed  but  rather  dutty  cwnce,  to  a  young, 
pretemacor^^  solemn-looking  clerk,  a  fit  assistant  for 
Peter  Laughhn,  "git  me  them  there  Pittsburg  and  Lake 
Erie  sheers,  will  you?"  Seeing  Cowperwood  w»tun,  he 
added,  "  What  kin  I  do  for  ye 

Cowperwood  smiled.  "So  he  calls  them  'sheers,*  does 
he?"  he  thought.   "Good!  I  think  I'll  like  him." 

He  introduced  himself  as  coming  from  Philadelphia, 
and  went  on  to  say  that  he  was  interested  in  various  Chicago 
ventures,  inclined  to  invest  in  any  good  ttotk  ytkaA  wtma 
rise,  and  particularly  desirous  to  buy  into  smne  corporatkm 
—public  urility  preferred — which  would  be  certain  to  gnm 
with  the  expansion  of  the  city. 

Old  Laughlin,  who  was  now  all  of  sixty  years  of  age, 
owned  a  seat  on  the  Board,  and  was  worth  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  two  hundrid  thousand  doUars,  loolEed  at  Cowper- 
wood quizzically. 

*'Well,  now,  if  you'd  *a'  come  along  here  ten  or  fifteen 
years  aj^  you  might  'a'  got  in  on  the  ground  floor  of  a  lot  of 
things,'  he  observed.  "There  was  these  here  gas  companies, 
now,  that  them  Otway  and  Apperson  boys  eot  in  on,  and 
then  all  these  here  street-railways.  Why,  I'm  the  feller 
that  told  Eddie  Parkinson  what  a  fine  thing  he  could  make 
out  of  it  if  he  would  go  and  organize  that  North  State  Street 
jine.  He  promised  me  a  bunch  of  sheers  if  he  ever  worked 
it  out,  but  he  never  give  'em  to  me.  I  didn't  expect  him 
to,  though,"  he  added,  wisely,  and  with  a  glint.  "I'm 
too  old  a  trader  for  that.  He's  out  of  it  now,  anyway. 
That  Michaels-Kennelly  crowd  skinned  him.  Yep,  if  you  d 
*a*  been  here  ten  or  fifteen  years  ago  you  might  'a  got  in  on 
that.  'Tain't  no  use  a-thinkin'  about  that,  though,  any 
more.  Them  sheers  is  sellin'  fer  dost  onto  a  hundred  and 
sixty." 

Q>wperwood  smiled.  "Well,  Mr.  Laughlin,"  he  ob- 
served, "you  must  have  been  on  'change  along  time  here. 

32 


PETER  LAUGHLIN  &  CO. 


You  teem  to  kaoir  «  food  deal  of  what  luw  fOMon  m  the 

past." 

"Yep,  ever  since  185a,"  replied  the  old  imui.  He  liad  a 
thick  erowth  of  upstanding  hair  looking  not  unlike  a 
rooster  s  comb,  a  long  and  what  threatened  evoitually  to 
become  a  Punch-and-Judy  chin,  a  slightly  aquiline  now, 
high  cheek-bones,  and  hollow,  brown-skinned  cheelE8>  Hia 
eyes  were  as  clear  and  sharp  as  those  of  a  lynx. 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,  Mr.  Lau^lin,'  went  on  Cowper- 
wood,  "what  I'm  really  out  here  m  Chicago  for  is  to  find 
a  man  with  whom  I  can  go  into  partnership  in  the  broker- 
age buimess.  Now  I'm  in  the  banking  and  brokera^ 
business  myself  in  the  East.  I  have  a  firm  in  Philadelphia 
and  a  seat  on  both  the  New  York  and  Philadelphia  ex- 
changes. I  have  some  affairs  in  Fatgo  also.  Any  trade 
agency  can  tell  you  about  me.  You  have  a  Board  of  Trade 
seat  here,  and  no  doubt  you  do  some  New  York  and  Phila- 
delphia exchange  business.  The  new  firm,  if  you  would 
go  in  with  me,  could  handle  it  adl  direct.  I'm  a  rather 
strong  ou^de  mm  nrjTBelf.  I'm  dunking  (^  locating  per- 
manently in  Chicago.  What  would  you  say  nam  to  going 
into  busmess  with  me?  Do  you  think  we  c  (Jdystakxigin 
the  sanw  office  spacer' 

Cow^rwood  nad  a  way,  when  he  wanted  to  be  pleasant, 
of  beatmg  the  fingers  of  his  two  hands  together,  finger  for 
fineer,  tip  for  tip.  He  abo  tmSed  at  die  nune 
rather,  beamed — his  eyes  glowog  W^  a  W»m» 
seemingly  affectionate  light. 

As  it  happened,  old  Beter  Laughlin  had  a-riired  at 
that  psychological  moment  when  he  was  wishing  that  some 
such  opportunity  as  this  might  appear  and  be  available. 
He  was  a  lonely  man,  never  havii^  oeen  able  to  bring  hhn- 
self  tv.  trust  his  peculiar  temperament  in  the  hands  of  any 
woman.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  had  never  understood 
wMMn  at  all,  his  relattona  b«a^  confined  to  dioae  aad 
immoralities  of  the  cheapest  character  which  only  money — 
grudgingly  given,  at  that — could  buy.  He  lived  in  three 
smsU  rooms  in  W«t  Harrison  Street,  near  Throu|^  lAiat 
he  cooked  his  own  meals  at  times.  His  one  companion  was 
a  small  spaniel,  simple  and  affectionate,  a  she  dog,  Jennie  by 
 With  whot  he  liept.    Jcaaie  waa  a  dwak  lamag 


THE  TITAN 

companion,  waiting  tor  him  patiendv  by  day  in  hit  office 
until  he  wai  readv  to  go  home  at  night.  He  talked  to  ^bm 
spaniel  auite  as  ne  would  to  a  human  beii7.i;  (even  more 
intimately,  perhaps),  taking  the  dog's  glances,  tail-waggings, 
mA  gBBeral  movement!  for  answer.  In  the  motniof  wncn 
he  arose,  which  was  often  as  early  as  half  past  four,  or  even 
four — he  was  a  brief  sleeper — hs  ould  begin  by  pulling 
CO  hie  trousers  (he  seldom  bathed  any  more  eio^  et  e 
down-town  barber  shop)  and  talking  to  Jennie. 

/'Git  up,  now,  Jinnie,"  he  would  say.  "It's  time  to  git 
up.  We've  got  to  make  our  coffee  now  and  git  some  bieak- 
fast.  I  can  see  yuh,  lyin'  there,  pertendiir  to  be  asleep. 
Come  on,  now!  You've  had  sleep  enough.  You've  been 
deepin'  as  lone  as  I  have." 

Jennie  would  be  watching  him  out  of  the  comer  of  one 
loving  eye,  her  tail  tap-tapping  on  the  bed,  her  free  ear 
goine  up  and  down. 

Vmtn  he  was  fuUy  dressed,  his  face  and  hands  waslMd,  his 
dd  string  tie  puOtra  aiound  mto  a  kxMe  and  convenient 
knot,  his  hair  bnshed  upward,  Jennie  would  get  up  and 

CP  demonstratively  about,  as  much  as  to  say,  "You  see 
"prompt  I  am." 
"That's  the  way,"  old  Laughlin  would  comment.  "Allers 
'ast.  Yuh  never  git  up  first,  do  yuh,  Jincie?  Allers  let  yer 
dd  man  do  diat,  don  1 3roa?" 

On  bitter  days,  when  the  car-wheels  squeaked  and  one's 
ears  and  fingers  seemed  to  be  in  danger  of  freezing,  dd 
Laughim,  arrayed  in  a  keaiqr,  diMty  greatcoat  of  an^st 
vintage  and  a  square  hat,  would  carry  Jennie  down-town 
in  a  greenish-black  bag  along  with  some  of  his  beloved 
"sheers"  which  he  was  meditating  on.  Only  then  could  he 
take  Jennie  in  the  cars.  On  other  days  they  would  walk, 
for  he  liked  exercise.  He  would  get  to  his  omce  as  early  as 
seven-thirty  or  eight,  though  busmess  did  not  usually  bepm 
until  after  nine,  and  remain  until  four-thirty  or  five,  readmg 
the  papers  or  calculating  durina  the  hours  when  there  were 
ao  custoaaers.  Thai  he  wodd  take  Jcmue  and  go  for  a 
walk  or  to  call  on  some  business  acquaintance.  His  home 
room,  the  newspapers,  the  floor  of  the  exchange,  his  offices, 
tad  the  streets  were  his  oi^  fetoiifwwi  Mb  caned  nothing 
fbr  playi^  book%  ^ctiiic%  mam  mi  ^  wmm  oeiy  m 

H 


PETER  LAUGHLIN  &  CO. 

hi*  one-angled,  mentally  impoveriihed  way.  His  iimita- 
tions  were  ao  marked  that  to  ■  lover  of  character  hke 
Cowperwood  he  waa  fascinatine— but  Cowperwood  only 
lued  character.   He  never  idled  over  it  long  artiipcaUy. 

As  Cowperwood  suspected,  what  old  Laughlui  did  not 
know  about  Chicago  financial  conditions,  deals,  oppommi- 
ties,  and  individuals  waa  scarcely  worth  knowing.  Betng 
only  a  trader  by  intiiict,  iMtiwr  an  organaer  nor  an 
executive,  he  had  never  been  able  to  make  any  great  con- 
structive use  of  his  knowledge.  His  gams  and  his  losses 
he  took  with  reasonable  equanimity,  exclaimma  over  and 
over,  when  he  lost:  "Shucksl  I  hadn't  orter  have  done 
that,"  and  snapping  his  fingers.  When  he  won  heavUv 
or  was  winning  he  munched  tobacco  with  a  seraphic  smUe 
and  occasionally  in  the  midst  of  trading  would  exdaim: 
"  You  fellers  better  come  in.  It's  a-gonra  rain  some  more. 
He  was  not  easy  to  trap  in  aay  amall  gamblmg  game,  and 
only  lost  or  won  when  there  was  a  free,  open  strug^  m  the 
market,  or  when  he  was  engineering  some  little  adwme  of 
his  own.  .  , 

The  matter  of  this  partnership  was  not  arran^  ^1?"^ 
although  it  did  not  take  long.  Old  Peter  Laughfan  wanted 
to  thi^  it  ofer,  although  he  had  immediately  developed  a 
personal  fancy  for  Cowperwood.  In  a  wayhe  was 
latter's  victim  and  servant  from  die  start  T^r  met  day 
after  day  to  discuss  various  details  and  teiraa:  finally,  true 
to  his  instincts,  old  Peter  demanded  a  full  hm  interest. 

"Now,  you  don't  want  that  much,  Laughhn,  Co  ^er- 
wood  suggested,  quite  blandly.  They  were  sittmg  m 
LaughlinVprivate  office  between  four  and  five  in  the  after^ 
noon,  and  Lau^Iin  was  diewing  tobacco  with  the  swise  of 
having  a  fine,  interesting  problem  before  him.  I  have  a 
seat  on  the  New  York  Stock  Exchange,"  he  went  on,  and 
that's  worth  forty  thottsand  dollan.  My  acat  onthe 
Philadelphia  exchange  is  worth  more  than  yours  here.  ^They 
will  naturally  figure  as  the  principal  assets  of  the  firm. 
It's  to  be  in  ymir  naase.  FU  be  liberal  with  you,  thoufli. 


-WW.  *       you,  and  i  thmk  ypm   - 

to  me.  I  know  you  «91  make  more  monay  thiouvi  tm 

»5 


THE  TITAN 

than  you  have  alone.  I  could  go  in  with  a  lot  of  these 
silk-stocking  fellows  around  here,  but  I  don't  want  to. 
You'd  better  decide  right  now,  and  let's  get  to  work." 

Old  Laughlin  was  pleased  beycmd  measure  that  youns 
Cowperwo(Ml  should  want  to  go  in  widi  him.  He  had 
become  aware  of  late  that  all  of  the  young,  smug  new- 
comers on  'change  considered  him  an  old  fogy.  Here  was 
a  strong,  brave  young  Eastoner,  twenty  years  his  junior, 
evidently  as  shrewd  as  himself— more  so,  he  feared — ^who 
actually  proposed  a  business  alliance.  Besides,  Cowper- 
wood,  m  his  yout^  healthy,  aggressive  way,  was  like  a 
breath  of  spring. 

"I  ain't  keerin'  so  much  about  the  name,"  rejoined  Laugh- 
lin. "You  can  fix  it  tirat-a^way  if  you  want  to.  Givm* 
you  fifty-one  per  cent,  gives  you  charge  of  this  here  shebang. 
All  right,  though;  I  ain't  a-kickin'.  I  guess  I  can  manage 
aflus  to  git  what's  a-comin'  to  me." 

"It's  a  bargain,  then,"  said  Cowperwood.  "We'll  want 
new  offices,  Laughlin,  don't  you  think?  This  one's  a  little 
dark." 

"  Fix  it  up  any  way  you  like,  Mr.  Cowperwood.  It's  all 
the  same  to  me.    I'll  be  glad  to  see  how  yer  do  it." 

In  a  week  the  details  were  completed,  and  two  weeks  later 
the  sign  of  Peter  Laughlin  &  Co.,  grain  and  commission 
merchants,  appeared  over  the  door  of  a  handsome  suite  of 
rooms  on  the  ground  floor  of  a  comer  at  La  Salle  and 
Madison,  in  the  heart  of  the  Chicago  financial  district. 

"Get  onto  old  Laughlin,  will  you? '  one  broker  observed 
to  another,  as  they  passed  the  new,  pretentious  commission- 
house  with  its  splendid  plate-glass  windows,  and  observed 
the  hcxvy,  ornate  bronze  sign  placed  on  either  side  of  the 
door,  which  was  located  exactly  on  the  comer.  "What's 
struck  him?  I  thought  he  was  aloKMt  all  through.  Who's 
the  Company?" 

"I  don't  know.    Some  fellow  from  the  East,  I  think." 

"Well,  he's  certainly  moving  up.  Look  at  the  plate 
glass,  will  you?" 

It  was  thus  that  Frank  Algernon  Cowp«twoo#t  CUetfO 
financial  career  was  definitely  launched* 


CHAPTER  V 


CONCERNING  A  WIFE  AMD  FAldLT 


IF  any  one  fancies  for  a  moment  that  this  commercial 
move  on  the  part  of  Cowperwood  was  either  hasty  or 
ill-c(msideted  they  but  little  appreciate  the  incisive,  appre- 
hensive psychology  of  the  man.  His  thoughts  as  to  life 
and  control  (tempered  and  hardened  by  thirteen  months 
of  reflection  in  the  Eastern  District  Penitentiary)  had  given 
him  a  fixed  policy.  He  could,  should,  and  would  rule  siione. 
No  man  must  ever  again  have  the  lc«st  daim  on  him  save 
that  of  a  suppliant.  He  wanted  no  more  dangerous  ami- 
binations  such  as  he  had  had  with  Stener,  the  man  throiwh 
whom  he  had  lost  to  mt^  in  Phfladelphia,  and  others.  By 
right  of  financial  intellect  aad  courage  he  was  first,  and 
would  so  prove  it.  Men  man  fwing  around  him  as  planets 
around  the  sun. 
Moreover,  since  his  fall  from  grace  in  Philadelphia  he  had 


become  socially  acceptable  in  the  lenae  m  ^i^uch  ue  so* 
called  best  society  of  a  city  interprets  the  phrase;  and 
pondering  over  this  at  odd  moments,  he  realized  that  his 
future  allies  in  all  probalnfity  would  not  be  among  the 
rich  and  socially  important — the  clannish,  snobbish  ele- 
ments of  society — but  among  the  beginners  and  financially 
stroi^  men  who  had  come  or  were  coming  up  from  the 
bottom,  and  who  had  no  social  hopes  whatsoever.  There 
were  many  such.  If  through  luck  and  effort  he  became 
suffidaidy  powerful  financially  he  misht  dioi  Iwpe  to 
dictate  to  sodety.  Individualistic  ana  even  anarcnisdc 
in  character,  and  without  a  shred  of  true  democracy,  yet 
temperamoitally  he  was  in  sympathy  with  the  mass  more 
than  he  was  with  the  class,  and  he  understood  the  mass 
better.   Perhaps  this,  in  a  way,  will  explain  his  denre  to 


come  to  think  that 


haps,  could  he  hope  to 


THE  TITAN 

connect  himself  with  a  personalitv  so  naive  and  wranje  " 
Sttr  Laughlin.  He  had  annexed  him  as  a  surgeon  selects 
a  special  klife  or  instrument  for  ^^^^^''^^^S^ 
as  old  Laughlin  was,  he  was  destined  to  be  no  mm  tftan 
a  taTSirperwood's  strone  hands,  ^  rnere  hustlmg 
meSTnger,  cont^t  to  take  orders  from  this  swiftest  of 
mSbrains.  For  the  present  Cowpermwd  was  sati  fied 
mu«neM  under  the  firm  name  of  Peter  Laughhn  & 
Co.-as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  preferred  it;  for  he  could  thus 
kSp  himself  sufficiently  inconspicuous  to  avoid  undue 
a^rion  and  eradually  work  out  one  or  two  coups  by 
wS T'hop^  w  finnly  fix  him«.lf  in  the  financial  future 

''^S'diTmost  essential  preliminary  to  the  social  as  well 
as  die  financial  establishment  of  himself  and  Aileen  in 
ChicaiK),  Harper  Steger,  Cowperwood's  lawyer,  was  doing 
his  Sl^  all  if.  while  to  ingratiate  himself  in  the  confidence 
of  Mr^^cSwperwood,  whoTiad  no  faith  in  lav^ers  any  more 
San7he  haf  in  her  recalcitrant  hufbwid.  She  was  now  a 
Si  severe,  and  rather  plain  woman,  but  still  bearing  the 
JKof  former  pasSve  charm  that  had  once  interested 
SS^rwood.  Nota1,le  crows'-feet 
comm  of  her  nose,  mouth,  and  eyes.  She  had  a  remote, 
censorious,  subdued,  self-righteous  and  «ven  mjured  «r. 

The  cat-like  Steger,  who  had  aU  the  graceful  contempla- 
tive air  of  a  prowling  Tom,  was  just  the  person  to 
with  her.  A  more  suavely  cunning  and  JPP;rtu;^J^ 
never  was.  Hb  motto  might  weUhav*  been,  sp^  ioftiy 

*"''MTdM«.  Cowperwood,"  he  argued,  seated  in  her 
modest  West  PhUadelpWa  parlor  one  spnng  afternoon, 
« I  n^Sd  ZTteW  you  w/at  a  r^emarkable  ™an  W  hus^^^^^^^ 
is.  nor  how  useless  it  is  to  combat  him.  Admittmg  all  his 
Suhs-and  we  am  aeree,  if  you  please,  that  they  are  many 
—Mrs.  Cowperwood  stirred  with  imtation— ,  stUl  it  is 
nofworth  while  to  attempt  to  hold  him  to  a  account 
Ym  know^-and  Mr.  Steger  opened  his  thm,  artistic  hands 
in  a  deprecatory  way-"what  sort  of  aman  M;^  Cowper- 
wood is,  and  whether  he  can  be  coerced  or  not.  tte  is 
STiii  ordinary  man.  Mrs.  Cowperwood  No  man  could 
!m  cone  tbnwgh  what  he  has  and  be  where  he  is  to^ay, 


CONCERNING  A  WIFE  AND  FAMILY 

h«  an  averaee  man.   If  you  take  my  advice  you  will 
tt  hh^To  Ws  way.  Grant  him  a  divorce.   He  is  wilhng, 
IveS^fous  to  mie  a  definite  provision  for  you  .jnd  your 
ITat^   He  will,  I  am  sure,  look  liberally  after  their 
Sr'BatheT  becoming  very  irritable  oyer  your  unwUl- 
Sss  to  give  him  a  legal  separation,  ^  I  unlc  you  do 
Tarn  ve^y  much  afraid  that  the  whole  matter  will  be 
hroViSo  the  courts.    If,  ^efoij  it  comes  to^^^^^^^^^ 
could  effect  an  arrangement  H«f»W«  y^^i^^^^^ 
much  pleased.  As  you  know,!  have  been 
by  the  whole  course  of  your  recent^affairs.  I  am  intensely 
sorrv  that  things  are  a«  «»ey  afe.         ,  «..„o.«rw 
£.  Steger  lifted  his  eyes  in  a  very  pained,  ^eprecatoiy 
way.    He  r^retted  deeply  the  shifty  currents  of  thw 

"^Mrl!  C::?Lood  for  perhaps  the  fifteenth  or  tw«J^ 
time  heard  ^him  to  the  end  m  patience  Co^Jgf^^ 
would  not  return.    Steger  was  as  much  her  frie^« 
any  other  lawyer  would  be.    Be«d?8.  n  J^r.^^ 
aereeablc  to  her.    Despite  his  Machiavellian  profeMWO, 
s£  h^f  iSiered  him.  He  went  over,  tactfully,  a  score 
ff  additioXSnts.    Finally,  on  the  twen^fiS-TlS 
and  with  seemingly  great  distress,  he  told  W  A^^ 
husband  had  deaded  to  break  with  her  financially,  to 
p^T^SmoJe  bills,  and  do  nothing  untU  h«  resjK^^^^^^^ 
bad  been  fixed  by  the  courts,  and  that  he,  Steger,  was 
SourS  retire  4m  the  caie.    Mrs.  Cowperwood  felt 
that  she  must  yield;  she  named  her  ulumatura.   If  he 
would  fix  two  hundred  thousand  doUan  on  her  .  and  the 
children  (this  was  Cowperwood>  own  s"ggf  "ion)  and 
Ser  on  do  something  «>mimjciaUy  for  tKeir  or^^^^ 
Frank,  junior,  she  would  let  hmi  go.  .She  disliked  » 
do  it.   She  knew  that  it  meant  the  triumph  of  Aileen 
Butler,  sSch  as  it  was.  But.  after  ^  th«  watched  cr^ture 
had  been  properly  disgraced  5»  ™*^*«-„Ji|,^  J^J 
Hkdy  she  ooafd  ever  raise  her  head  soaally  ^^T^^^p/^y 
S   She^d  to  file  a  plea  which  Steger  woiJd  dniJ! 
up  for  her,  and  by  that  oily  gent  eman  s  «»»c»»»n*«°"f 
was  finaUy  wormed  through  the  local  court  m  the  most 
secret  manner  imaginable.   The  merest  item  m  three  of 
the  PhUaddphia  papers  loiiie  «  wki  Um  l^oM 

^9 


THE  TITAN 

diat  a  divorce  had  been  granted.  When  Mrs.  Cowperwood 
read  it  she  wondered  ereatly  that  so  little  attenticm  had 
been  attracted  by  it.  She  had  feared  a  mudi  more  extended 
comment.  She  little  knew  the  cat-like  prowlings,  legal  and 
journalistic,  of  her  husband's  interestu^  counsel.  When 
Cowperwood  read  it  on  one  of  his  visits  to  Chicago  he 
heaved  a  sigh  of  relief.  At  last  it  was  really  true.  Now  he 
could  make  Aileen  his  wife.  He  tela|raphed  her  an  enig- 
matic message  of  congratulatimi.  When  Aileen  read  it 
she  thrilled  from  head  to  foot.  Now,  shortly,  she  would 
become  the  legal  bride  of  Frank  Algernon  Cowperwood, 
the  newly  enfranchised  Chicago  financier,  and  men-- 

"Oh,"  she  said,  in  her  Philadelphia  home,  when  she 
read  it,  "isn't  that  splendid  1  Now  I'U  be  Mrs.  Cowper- 
wood. Oh,  dearf* 

Mrs.  Frank  Algernon  Cowperwood  number  one,  thmkmg 
over  her  husband's  liaison,  failure,  imprisonment,  pyro- 
technic operadoBS  at  the  time  of  the  Jay  Cooke  failure, 
and  his  present  financial  ascendancy,  wondered  at  the 
mystery  of  life.  There  must  be  a  God.  The  Bible  said  so. 
Her  husband,  evil  though  he  was,  could  not  be  utterl)r  bad, 
for  he  had  made  ample  provision  for  her,  and  the  children 
liked  him.  Ceruinly,  at  the  time  of  the  criminal  ptowcu- 
tion  he  was  no  munt  than  some  others  who  had  gome  free. 
Yet  he  had  been  convicted,  and  she  was  sorry  for  that  and 
had  always  been.  He  was  an  able  and  ruthless  man.  She 
hardly  knew  what  to  think.  The  cme  person  she  really  did 
blame  was  the  wretched,  vain,  empty-headed,  ungodly 
Aileen  Butler,  who  had  been  his  seductress  and  was  prob- 
ably mm  to  be  his  God  would  punish  her,  no  doubt. 
He  must.  So  she  went  to  church  on  Sundays  and  tned 
to  believe,  come  what  might,  that  all  was  for  the  best. 


CHAPTER  VI 


YBM  WW  gOBBN  Of  W«  HOMl 

THE  day  Cowperwood  and  Aileen  were  married —  it 
was  m  an  obscure  vfllage  called  Dajston,  near  Pitts- 
burg, in  western  Pennsylvania,  where  they  had  rtopped 
oflF  to  manage  this  matter— he  had  said  to  her:    I  want 
to  tell  you,  dear,  that  you  and  I  are  reafly  begmnmg  Ufe 
all  over.   Now  it  depends  on  how  well  we  play  this  game 
as  to  how  well  we  succeed.   If  you  will  listen  to  me  we 
won't  try  to  do  anything  mudi  socially  m  Chicago  forthe 
present.   Of  course  we'llhave  to  meet  a  few  people. .  That 
can't  be  avoided.   Mr.  and  Mrs.  Addison  are  anxioitt  to 
meet  you,  and  I've  delayed  too  'ong  in  that  matter  as  it  w. 
But  what  I  mean  is  that  I  don't  believe  it  s  advisable  to 
push  this  social  exchange  too  far.   People  are  sure  to  begni 
to  make  inquiries  if  we  do.   My  plan  is  to  wait  a  little 
while  and  then  build  a  really  fine  house  so  that  we  won  t 
need  to  rebuild.   We're  going  to  go  to  Europe  next  spring, 
if  things  go  right,  and  we  may  get  some  ideas  over  there. 
I'm  going  to  put  in  a  good  big  galleiv,  teconduded. 
"While  we're  traveling  we  might  as  well  sec  what  we  can 
find  in  die  way  of  pictures  and  so  on."  , 

Aileen  was  thrilling  with  anticipation.  Oh, 
she  said  to  him,  quite  ecstarically,  "you  re  to  wooderfid! 
You  do  everything  you  want,  don't  you  r    .  .  ,  , 

"Not  quite,"  he  said,  deprecatinglyi  "but  it  isn  t  fornot 
wanting  to.  Chance  hat  a  Httfe  to  say  ibow  aome  of  mem 
things,  Aileen."  .  « 

She  stood  in  front  of  him,  as  she  often  did,  her  plump, 
ringed  hands  on  hit  thoiMert,  and  looked  into  those 
steady,  lucid  pools— his  eyes.  Another  man,  less  leonme, 
and  with  all  his  shifting  thoughts,  might  have  had  to  con- 
tend widi  tile  tamikaf  ^  t  ASkf  vm  Ik  tMHi  tke 


THE  TITAN 

aueries  and  suspicions  of  the  iKMld  with  a  seemine  candor 
hat  was  as  disarming  as  that  ot  a  child.  The  truth  was  he 
bdieved  in  himself,  and  himsdf  c»ily,  and  dmice  sprang  his 
courage  to  think  as  he  pleased.  A3e«i  wmdatd,  but 
could  get  no  answer. 

**Oh,  you  big  tiger!"  she  said.  "You  great,  1^  KmI 
Boo!" 

He  pinched  her  cheek  and  smiled.  "Poor  Aileenl"  he 
thought.  She  little  knew  the  unsolvable  mystery  diat  he 
was  even  to  himself — to  himself  most  of  all. 

Immediately  after  their  marriage  Cowperwood  and  Aileen 
journeyed  to  Chicago  direct,  and  took  the  best  rooms  that 
the  Tremont  provided,  for  the  time  being.  A  little  later 
they  heard  of  a  comparatively  small  furnished^  house  at 
Twenty-third  and  Michigan  Avenue,  whidi,  wiA  horses 
and  carriages  thrown  in,  was  to  be  had  for  a  season  or  two  on 
lease.  They  contracted  for  it  at  once,  installing  a  butler, 
servants,  and  the  general  service  of  a  wdi>app(Mnted  home. 
Here,  because  he  thought  it  was  only  courteous,  and  not 
because  he  thought  it  was  essential  or  wise  at  this  time 
to  atmnpc  a  social  onslaught,  he  invited  tft»  Addisons  and 
one  or  two  others  whom  he  felt  sure  would  come— Alexander 
Rambaud,  president  of  the  Chicago  &  Northwestern,  and 
^  frifie^  moA  Tayka  Loid»  an  architect  whom  he  had  re- 
cently called  into  consultation  and  whom  he  found  socially 
acceptable.  Lord,  like  the  Addisons,  was  in  society,  but 
(mly  as  a  minor  figure. 

Trust  Cowperwood  to  do  the  thing  as  it  should  be  dime. 
The  place  they  had  leased  was  a  charming  little  gray-ttone 
house,  with  a  neat  flight  of  granite,  balustraded  steps 
leading  up  to  its  wide-suched  door,  and  a  judicious  use  of. 
stained  glass  to  give  its  interior  an  arttsdodly  subdued 
atmosphere.  Fortunately,  it  was  furnished  in  good  taste. 
Cowperwood  turned  over  the  matter  of  the  omner  to  a 
caterer  and  decorator.  Aileen  Had  nothing  to  do  but  dress, 
and  wait,  and  look  her  best. 

*'I  Medn't  tell  you,"  he  said,  in  the  morning,  on  leaving, 
"that  I  want  you  to  look  nwe  tt>>n^^it,  pet.  I  waul  ^e 
Addisons  and  Mr.  Rambaud  to  like  you." 

A  hint  was  more  than  sufficient  for  Aileen,  thou^  really 
it  waa  not  itteded.  On  arrivmit  at  CSuca^  she  bad  touKitt 


Thfc  NEW  QUEEN  OF  THE  HOME 

^;«inted  riot  of  silks,  satins,  laces,  lingene,  hair 

presented  a  VOTWBicw  everything 

n  (See  in  the  throe*  of  a  toilet  composition,  Afleen 
blariably  became  re^       tnereetic,  almost  fidgety. 

and  her  maid,  Fadette.  ^^P^^\^^''Z^^ii 
Fr».«li  from  her  bath,  a  smootti,  ivory  Venus,  sne 
Sy  Trou^  lingerie,  stockings  and  shoes  to 

2er  hair    FaSette  had  an  idea  to  ^'^Z  ^^'i 

Would  Madame  let  her  try  a  new  s^^.  •^,1 
Madame  wouM-ye..  So  ?here  we«  movmgs  ofj^er^^^^^^ 
of  rich  jslint  ng  tresses  this  way  and  tjat.  fO"'"®^. 
wou  d  not  do.^  A  braided  effect  wat  then  tned.  w^d  m- 
Sandy  discarded;  finaUy  a  double  looping,  without  braids, 
bw  oJer  the  forehead,  caught  back  witfi  ^o.d^'Xad 
bands  crossing  like  an  X  above  the  center  of  her  forehead 
aid  fiJ^^ed  with  a  diamond  sunburst,  served  admijjbly. 
iS  her  filmy,  lacy  boudoir  cowumc  of  pmk  silk.Aileen 
toc^  up  a7d  survVd  herself  i«  the  ^W^w.^  mirror 
"Yes,^'  she  said,  turning  her  head  this  way  and  that. 
Then  came  the  dress  from  Doiwvan's,  rurthng  and  crisp- 
ing   She  slipped  mto  it  woBderingly,  f«tically,  whSi 
pfdette  worked  at  the  back,  the  arms,  about  her  kneet. 
doine  one  little  e^toal  thin^  after  , 

"Oh,  Madamer  the  estdMmed.  "O^,  f*«ma«</  ^ 
hair,  it  go  weeth  it  perfect.  It  ees  so  full,  so  beyutifid 
here"-slc  pointed  to  the  hips,  where  the  lace  lormed  a 
clineine  basque.   "Oh,  tees  varee,  varee  ,nize. 

SSi  glowed,  but  ^th  scarcely  a  smile  She  was  con- 
cemed.  It  wam't  ao  much  her  toilet,  which  must  be  every- 
^r^.; |,e-but  this  Mr.  Addison,  who  wa.  so 

rich%nd  in  society,  and  Mr.  J^P  ^J^S 

powerful,  Frank  said,  must  hke  her.   It  was  the  neoetsity 

2  33 


THE  TITAN 


to  put  ha  best  foot  forward  now  that  was  really  troubling 
her.  She  must  interest  these  men  mentally,  perhaps,  m 
well  as  physically,  and  with  social  graces,  and  that  was 
not  so  easy.  For  all  her  money  and  comfort  in  Philadelphia 
•he  had  never  been  in  society  in  its  best  aspects,  had  never 
done  social  entertaining  of  any  real  importance.  Frank 
was  the  most  important  man  who  had  ever  crossed  her 
path.  No  doubt  Mr.  Rambaud  had  a  severe,  old-fashioned 
wife.  How  would  she  talk  to  her?  And  Mrs.  Addison  1 
She  would  know  and  see  everything.  Aileen  almost  talked 
out  feod  to  to«elf  in  a  consoling  wav  as  she  diened,  so 
strenuous  were  her  thoughts',  but  she  went  on,  addiiq; 
the  last  touches  to  her  physical  graces. 

Whm  die  ftially  went  down-stairs  to  see  how  the  dining 
and  reception  rooms  looked,  and  Fadette  began  putting 
away  the  vv  clter  of  discarded  earments — she  was  a  radiant 
vision — a  sjplendid  grtenish-goTd  figure,  with  gorgeous  hair, 
smooth,  soft,  shapely  ivory  arms,  a  splendid  neck  and  bust» 
and  a  swelling  form.  She  felt  beautiful,  and  vet  she  was  a 
little  nervous — ^truly.  Frank  himself  would[  be  critical. 
She  went  about  loolung  into  the  diiung-romn,  which,  bv  the 
caterer's  art,  had  been  transformed  into  a  kind  of  jeweHXMC 
glowing  with  flowers,  silver,  gold,  tinted  glass,  and  the 
snowy  whiteness  of  linen.  It  reminded  her  of  an  opal 
fiashmg  all  its  soft  fires.  She  went  into  the  general 
reception-room,  where  was  a  grand  piano  finished  m  pink 
and  gfAd,  upon  which,  with  due  thought  to  her  one  accom- 
plishment—her playing — she  had  arrang^  die  solvit  and 
mstrumental  pieces  she  did  best.  Aileen  was  really  not  a 
brilliant  musician.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  felt 
matroidy^-as  if  now  dhe  were  iwt  a  girl  any  more,  but  a 
woman  grown,  with  some  serious  responsibilities,  and  yet 
she  was  not  really  suited  to  the  role.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
her  dioughts  were  always  fixed  on  the  artistic,  social,  and 
dramatic  aspects  of  life,  with  unfortunately  a  kind  of 
nebulosity  of  conception  which  permitted  no  condensation 
mto  aii3fthing  definite  or  concrete.  She  could  only  be 
wildly  and  feverishly  interested.  Just  then  the  door  clicked 
to  Frank's  key — it  was  nearing  six — and  in  he  came,  smiling, 
confident,  a  perfect  atmo^^re  of  assurance. 

*'Wtlir  be  obeenred,  larvcsfyig  her  in  the  soft  fjltam  of 

34 


THE  NEW  QUEEN  OF  THE  HOME 

the  reception-ioom  lighted  by  wall  candj^ 

arranaed:   "Who's  the  vision  floating  aimmd  here f  Im 

almoM  afra'  \  to  touch  yon.  Much  powder  on  those  arms  f 

Hfd?ew  :.er  inco  his  arms,  and  she  put  up  j£  "^tSS 
a  sense  of  relief.  Obviously,  he  must  thmk-  ttat  Ae  iooiM 

^'^'T^'chalky,  I  guess.  You'll  just  have  to  stand  it, 
though.   You're  going  to  dress,  anyhow. 

She  put  her  smooth,  plump  arms  about  his  neck,  and  he 
felt  pleased.   This  was  the  kind  of  a  woman  to  have-a 
beauty.   Her  neck  was  resplendent  wiA  a 
quoise,  her  fingers  too  heavily  jeweled,  but  still  beautifid. 
She  was  faintfy  redolent  of  hyacmth  or  *J  J 

hair  appealed  to  him,  and,  above  all,  the  nch  yflowsdk 
of  h^d^iaAing  ^ttlginooi^thn^      doeely  netted 


^Charming,  girlie.  You've  outdone  youwetf.  Ifca^t 
seen  this  dress  before.  Wmt  did  jwnet  itr 

"Here  in  Chicago."   .     .         .  . 

He  lifted  her  wann  fingen.  mxmfmg  her  tnoi, 
turned  her  about.  , 

"You  don't  need  any  advice.  You  ought  to  atart  a 

*^"^iii  I  all  right?"  she  queried,  smartly,  but  with  a  lenae 
of  self-dUtrust  for  the  moment,  and  all  b«3U«of  Imn. 
"You're  perfect.  CwOdn't  be «««.  ^ieadidr 

"1*^S»  your  friends  would  think  so.  You'd  better 

liiiff*rv 

He  went  up-stairs,  and  she  followed,  looking  firstintp  th« 
din  ng-room  again.   At  least  that  was  right.  Siaeljf  riaiiR 

wai  a  master.  , 

At  seven  the  plop  of  the  feet  of  carriage  -  horses  was 
heard,  and  a  moment  later  Louis,  the  buder,  was  openiM  the 
door.  Aileen  went  down,  a  little  nervous,  a  little  fn^d, 
trying  to  think  of  many  pleasant  thmgs,  andwondenng 
whether  she  would  really  succeed  m  being  entcrtaimag. 
Cowperwood  accompanied  her,  a  very  different  oeraon  in 
so  far  as  mood  and  aelf-poise  were  concerned.  lohuaweU 
his  own  future  wat  ahvays  secure,  asd  tiiat  of  Aacefta  tt 
haimiMdto  iMka  kaew  The  «dyoii%  uiinaid  aauiiHiiit 


THE  TITAN 


runes  of  the  wdd  hdAu  duit  wtn  tfou^it  her  Ind  no 
such  significance  to  htm. 

The  dinner,  as  such  simple  things  go,  was  a  success  hom 
what  might  be  called  a  managerial  and  pictorial  pdnt  of 
view.  Q>wperwood,  because  of  his  varied  tastes  and 
interests,  could  discuss  railroading  with  Mr.  Rambaud  in  a 
very  definite  and  illuminating  wa]r;  could  talk  architecture 
with  Mr.  Lord  as  a  student,  for  instance,  of  rare  promise 
would  talk  with  a  master;  and  with  a  woman  like  Mrs. 
Addison  or  Mrs.  Rambaud  he  could  suggest  or  follow  ap- 
propriate leads.  Aileen,  unfortunately,  was  not  so  much 
at  home,  for  her  natural  state  and  mood  were  remote  not 
so  much  from  a  serious  as  from  an  accurate  conception  of 
life.   So  many  things,  except  in  a  ver^  nebulous  and  tug- 

festive  way,  were  lealed  books  to  Aileen-  merely  fiunt, 
istant  tinklings.  She  knew  nothing  of  literature  except 
certain  authors  who  to  the  trul^  cultured  might  seem 
banal.  As  for  art,  it  was  nmrely  a  jingle  of  names  gatlicrecl 
from  Cowperwood's  j  rivate  -"mments.  Her  one  redeem- 
ing feature  was  that  she  v  truly  beautiful  herself — a 
radiant,  vibrating  objet  itart.  A  man  like  Rambaud,  re- 
mote, conservative,  constructive,  saw  the  place  of  a  woman 
like  Aileen  in  the  life  of  a  man  like  Cowperwood  on  the 
instant.  She  was  such  a  woman  as  he  would  have  |maed 
himself  in  a  certain  capacity. 

Sex  interest  in  all  strong  mer  usually  endures  unto  the 
end,  governed  sometimes  by  stoic  resignation.  The 
experimenr  of  such  attraction  can,  as  they  well  know,  be 
made  over  and  over,  but  to  what  end?  For  many  it 
becomes  too  troublesome.  Yet  the  presence  of  so  glitterina 
a  spectacle  as  Aileen  on  this  night  touched  Mr.  Rambaud 
with  an  ancient  ambition.  He  looked  at  her  almost  sadly. 
<^ice  he  was  much  jncwmger.  But  alas»  he  had  never  at- 
tracted the  flaming  interest  of  any  such  woman.  As  he 
studied  her  now  he  wished  that  he  might  have  enjoyed  such 
good  fortune. 

In  contrast  with  Aileen's  orchid  glow  and  tinted  richness 
Mrs.  Rambaud's  simple  gray  silk,  the  collar  of  wiiich 
came  almost  to  her  ears,  was  disturbing — almost  reproving 
—but  Mrs.  Rambaud's  ladylike  courtesy  and  fenerosity 
nude  everything  aB  li^t.  She  came  out  of  nt^Kttial 

36 


THE  NEW  QUEEN  OF  THE  HOME 
New  England-the  EinerKm-Thoieau-Chaimmg  Phillips 

"'iwr.y«  .poke  appiKiation.  Although  .h.  could 

Pm  nire  I  shall,"  smiled  Aileen. 
"Hived  in  Philadelphia  years  ago.  but  oiUyfor  a  little 

"^'^^To^-gavl  ^ie^Me^P^S^,  but  she 
pal^d  iJS'ly"^  "^^^  sort  of  -id^ul  refc^ng^ 
must  learn  to  expect;  there  might  be  much  irowe  bn^ 

"'Tfind  Chicago  all  right,"  she  repUed.  b^Wy.  "Theg^ 
nothing  the  matter  with  it.   It  has  mo«  snap  than  FMa. 

''!tm7ad'?oLr  you  say  M^teitson-du 
Perhaps  It's  because  I  find  such  inteittting  tfanp  to  do 

here  J  L  • 

H;  was  admiring  the  splendor  of  her  arms  and  hair. 
What  need  had  beautiful  woman.to  be  mtellectual,  anvbo^ 
he  was  saying  to  himself,  sensmg  that  Aiken  might  be 

deficient  in  ultimate  refinement.    „j„«„Mr 

Once  mote  an  «in«mcement  from  tiie  bndcr.  and  now  IM^ 
and  Mrs.  Addison  entered.  Addison  was  not  at  aWfon^J 
over  cooling  here-4iked  the  idea  of  it;  his  own  posttwa 
md  to  wife  in  Chicago  was  secure.    "How  are 

^  OiWiUHHwtr  lit  bcwwiUyaii  one  hand  on  the 

37 


THE  TITAN 

latter* s  shoulder.  "This  is  fine  of  you  to  have  us  in  to-night. 
Mrs.  Giwperwood,  I've  been  telling  your  husband  for 
nearly  a  year  now       he  ihotild  bring  you  out  here.  Did 
he  tell  you?"  (Addison  had  not  as  vet  confided  to  hit 
the  true  history  of  Cowoerwood  and  Aileen.) 

"Yes,  bdeed,"  replied  Aileen,  gaily,  feeling  that  Addiaoo 
was  charmed  by  her  beauty.  "  I  ve  been  wanting  to  ooOMt 
too.  it's  his  fault  that  I  wasn't  here  sooner." 

Addison,  kx^diif;  drcumspectly  at  Aileen,  taid  to  himself 
that  she  was  certainly  a  stunning-looking  woman.  So  she 
was  the  cause  of  the  first  wife's  suit.  No  wcmder.  What  a 
splendid  creature!  He  contrasted  her  with  Mrs.  AiMison, 
and  to  his  wife's  disadvantage.  She  had  never  been  as 
strikine,  as  stand -upish  as  Aileen,  thoush  possibly  she 
might  have  more  sense.  Jove!  if  he  coM  M  a  woman 
like  Aileen  to-day.  Life  would  take  on  a  new  luster.  And 
yet  he  had  women — very  carefully,  very  subterraneously. 
But  he  had  them. 

"It's  such  a  pleasure  to  meet  you,"  Mrs.  Addison,  a 
corpulent,  bejeweled  ladv,  was  saying  to  Aileen.  "My 
husband  and  yours  have  become  the  best  of  bimitt  mppta^ 
entlv.  We  must  see  more  of  each  other." 

She  babbled  on  in  a  puffy  social  way,  and  Aileen  felt 
as  though  she  were  getting  along  swiftly.  The  buder 
brought  in  a  0«at  tray  of  appetizers  and  cordials,  and  put 
niem  softly  on  a  remote  table.  Dinner  was  served,  and 
the  talk  flowed  on;  they  discussed  the  growth  of  the  city, 
a  new  church  tha*-  Lord  was  building  ten  blocks  fardier 
oat;  Rambaud  tdd  about  tome  humorous  land  swindles. 
It  was  quite  gay.  Meanwhile  Aileen  did  her  best  to  become 
interested  in  Mrs.  Rambaud  and  Mrs.  Addiscm.  SIm  LUumI 
the  lattnr  somewhat  better,  solely  because  it  wat  a  Kttle 
easier  to  talk  to  her.  Mrs.  Rambaud  Aileen  knew  to  be  the 
wiser  and  more  charitable  woman,  but  she  frightened  her 
a  little;  presendy  she  had  to  fall  back  on  Mr.  Lwd't  help. 
He  came  to  her  rescue  gallantly,  talking  of  everything  that 
came  into  his  mind.  All  the  men  \tstde  of  Cowoerwood 
were  thinking  how  nJeadid  Aile...  was  physicafiy,  how 
white  were  her  arms,  how  rounded  lier  atek  Mtd  tlMMlien» 
how  rich  her  hair. 


CHAPTER  VU 


OLD  Peter  Laughlin,  rejuvenawl  ^^*''n»«^5?KJI^^^ 
trie  ideal,  was  making  money  fertile  house.  Hebrougfc^ 

many  bit.  of  intere.ting  goMip  from  the 

^rewd  guetset  a«  to  what  certam  Moups  and  ladmdMte 

wereup  to,  that  CampumnA  ww  alte  t»  -lU  tomt  ^ 

^^^yg^'cilrFTank,  I  think  I  kr«nr  «.ctly  whatAe^ 
feUe«  art  tryin.  to  do,"  Laughlin  would  '^^'sSel'^ 
of  a  morning,  after  he  had  lam  m.hi.  ^n«^™2£r^.?4£;: 
bed  meditating  the  major  poroon  of  the  mjpt.  * 
there  Stock  Yard,  gang"  (and  by  gang  he  "J"**^^ 
the  great  manipulatory  Uke  Amed,  Hand.  Sch^hart  and 

othen)  "are  after  com  »««»•  W«  ™«  .?,lSlk  h3»r 
that  niw.  or  I  miss  mv  guess.  What  do  "ffiT 
Cowperwood,  Khoofeifby  now  in  many  WMtem  roWe- 
ties  whSi  he  ktd  not  previously  kncmn,  and  Jy^?™- 
ing  wiser,  would  as  a  rule  pve  an  mrtantanwu.  d^won. 

^'You're  right.  Risk  a  hundred  thousand  boAeja.  I 
think  New  York  Central  it  fEoing  to  drop  a  ^  ottm  m 

a  few  davs.   We'd  better  go  short  a  ppmt.  

Laughlin  could  never  figure  out  quite  how  it 
Cowperwood  always  seemed  to  know  and  was  readyto  art 
quite  as  quickly  in  local  matters  as  he  wa«hMMetf.  m 
understood  his  wisdom  concerning  ^"SUj^XiS 
things  deakinontheEMttrae«di«iie,b«t»«ti»ciiP 

"™^^\i^ut  makes  you  think  diat?"  he  triced  Cuwptrwood, 
one  day.  quite  curiously.  „  . 

"Why,  Peter,"  Cowperwood  replied,  qiute  wnply,  An- 
ton Videra"  (one  of  the  ditecton  of  the  What 
BnA)  "wM  m  hut  ywmii^  wmk  fM  mmm 


! 

r,  1 

i 


THE  TITAN 


and  he  was  telling  me."  He  detcnlNsd  a  ntuadon  wiAoA 
Videra  had  outlined. 

Laughlin  knew  Videra  as  a  strong,  wealthy  Pole  who  had 
come  up  in  the  last  few  years.   It  was  ttrange  how  Cowper* 

wood  naturally  got  in  with  these  wealthy  men  and  won 
their  confidence  so  auickly.  Videra  would  never  have 
become  so  confidential  with  him. 

"Huh!"  be  exclaimed.  "Well,  if  he  »ay«  it  k't  raore'n 
likely  so." 

So  Laughlin  bought,  and  Peter  Laughlin  &  Co.  won. 

But  this  grain  and  commission  business,  while  it  was 
yielding  a  profit  which  would  average  about  twenty 
tiMMisand  a  year  to  each  partner,  was  nodring  mon  to 
Cowperwood  than  a  source  of  information. 

He  wanted  to  "get  in"  on  something  that  was  sure  to 
bring  very  great  returns  within  a  reasonable  time  and  that 
would  not  Kave  him  in  any  such  desperate  situation  as  he 
was  at  the  time  of  the  Chicago  fire — spread  out  very  diin, 
as  he  put  it.  He  had  interested  in  his  ventures  a  small 
group  of  Chicago  men  who  were  watchiiw  him— Judah 
Addison,  Alexander  Rambaud,  Millard  Bailey,  Anton 
Videra — men  who,  although  not  supreme  figures  by  any 
means,  had  free  capital.  He  knew  that  he  coujd  go  to  them 
whh  any  truly  sound  proposition.  Hie  one  tiling  that  mott 
attracted  his  attention  was  the  Chicago  gas  situation, 
because  there  was  a  chance  to  step  in  almost  unheralded  in 
an  as  yet  anoccupied  territory;  widi  franchises  once  le- 
curnl — the  reader  can  quite  imagine  how — ^he  could  present 
haoMelf,  like  a  Hamilcar  Barca  m  the  heart  of  Spam  or  a 
Hannibal  at  the  ^tes  of  Rome,  with  a  demand  for  sur- 
lender  and  a  division  of  spoils. 

There  were  at  this  time  three  gas  companies  operating 
in  tl»  three  different  divisions  of  the  city — ^the  three  sec- 
tions, or  "sides,"  as  they  were  called — South,  West,  and 
North,  and  of  diese  the  Chicago  Gas,  Light,  and  Coke 
Company,  orsantzed  in  1848  to  do  business  on  the  South 
Side,  was  the  most  flourishii.g  and  important.  The 
People's  Gas,  Light,  and  Coke  Company,  doing  business 
on  the  W«M  l^de,  was  a  few  years  younger  thuk  ^  South 
Chicago  company,  and  had  been  allowed  to  spring  into 
existence  through  the  foolish  self-confidence  of  the  oigan- 

40 


CHICAGO  GAS 

iT*r  and  diiectora  of  the  South  Side  company » ^^J'  had 
?«dS  thailSther  the  West  Side  nor  the  North  Side  was 

i^nf to  develop  very  rapidly  for  a  -'.n»>«r.,<^^.m 
Smf  and  had  counted  00  the  city  council's  aWowing  *em 
S^xtend  their  mains  at  any  time  to  these  othe":  portions 
of  the  city.  A  third  company,  the  NprA  Chicago.  Gas 
IllumhiS  Company,  ha  j  been  organ«ed  almost  «mul- 
ilne^usly  4h  theVest  Side  company  bvAe  •™  nnxe^^ 
Srough  which  the  other  companies  ^'^"f^^  S?J° 

Uf^l-Sieir  avowed  intention,  like  that  of  the  West  bide 
c«'  b^o  confine  their  acdvitiesu,  the  sections 
from  which  the  organizers  presumablv  came.  . . 

Cowperwood's  first  project  was  to  ^uy  out  and  wirjme 
thethS  old  city  companies.  With  this  m  view  he  looked 
up Xholders  in^ll  three  corponitkms-gieir  finanaal  a«l 
s£ld  status.  It  was  his  idea  that  by  offering  them  three 
fbfonrorevcn  four  for  one,  for  ev«y  doUar  "Presented 
by  the  market  value  of  their  stock  he  mv^  buy  m«d 
caoitalize  the  three  companies  as  one.  Then,  by  usuing 
sXciSnt  st!ick  to  cover  il  ^^^^"^1^^^ 
a  rich  harvest  and  at  the  same  time  feave  himsdf  m  chaige. 

approached  Judah  Addison  finj.  as  the  m^  avadafte 
man  w  help  float  a  scheme  of  th«  kmd.  He  did  ^t  wsmt 
him  as  a  partner  so  much  as  he  wanted  mm 

Well,  rU  teU  you  how  I  feel  about  this,"  said  A^&OO, 
finallv.   "You've  hit  on  a  great  idea  here.   It  s  a  wonder 
it  hasn't  occurred  to  some  on%  else  before.   And  you'll  raj 
to  keep  rather  quiet  about  it,or  some  one  else  wdl  rush  m  »d 
do  it.  We  have  a  lot  of  venturesome  men  out  here.  But 
I  like  you,  and  I'm  with  you.   Now  it  wouldn't  be  advisaWe 
for  mi  to  go  in  on  this  personally-not  oP"»>  >"y^^^^ 
but  I'll  promise  to  see  that  you  get  some  of  the  money  you 
want.   1  like  your  idea  of  a  central  holdmgcompanv.^^^ 
pool,  with  you  in  charge  as  trustee,  and  I'm  Perfectly  wflling 
Sat  you  should  manage  it,  for  1  think  you  can  do  it. 
Anyhow,  that  leaves  me  out,  apparently, 
investor.   But  you  wiU  haveto  get  tjroor^MeoA^ 
help  carry  AistiMtfMrteewidlBW.  Ifa»e  JWI  "^T «»  • 

*""C»i  yes,"  replied  Cowperwood.  "Certainly.  I 

41 


THE  TITAN 

came  to  you  first."  He  mentioned  Rambaud,  Videra, 
Bailey,  and  others. 

"Tliey're  all  right,"  said  Addison,  "if  you  can  get  them. 
But  I'm  not  sure,  even  then,  that  you  can  mduce  th«c 
odwr  fettm  to  sell  out.  They're  not  investors  m  the 
ordinary  sense.  They're  people  who  look  on  thisgas 
business  as  their  private  business  They  itarted  it.^  They 
like  it.  They  buflt  the  gsManla  and  iaad  tlie  maflM.  It 

won't  be  easy."  .  ^  • 

Cowperwood  found,  as  Adduon  predicted,  that  it  was 
not  such  an  easy  matter  to  induce  the  various  stock- 
holders and  directors  in  the  old  companies  to  come  in  on 
any  such  scheme  of  leorgantsatioii.  A  closer,  more  un- 
responsive set  of  men  he  was  satisfied  he  had  never  met. 
His  offer  to  buy  outright  at  three  or  four  for  one  thtyre- 
fused  absolutely.   The  ttock  in  each  case  was  seUmg  from 
one  hundred  and  seventy  to  two  hundred  and  ten,  and 
intrinsically  was  worth  more  every  year,  as  die  aty  was 
growing  larger  and  its  need  of  gas  greater    At  die  lame 
time  they  were  suspicious— one  and  all— o  any  combina- 
ticm  scheme  by  an  outsider.  Who  was  he?    Arhom  did  he 
tepreaentf  He  cculd  make  it  dear  that  he  had  ample 
capital,  but  not  who  his  backers  were.  The  old  officers  and 
directors  fancied  that  it  was  a  scheme  on  the  part  of  some 
of  the  officers  and  directors  of  one  of  the  other  companies 
to  get  control  and  oust  them.   Why  should  they  sell  ?  Why 
be  tempted  by  greater  profits  from  their  stock  when  they 
were  doing  very  well  as  it  waaf  Because  of  his  newness  to 
Chicago  and  his  lack  of  connection  as  yet  with  large  affairs 
Cowperwood  was  eventually  compelled  to  turn  to  aimnier 
tcheme  that  of  organizing  new  companies  in  the  suburbs 
as  an  entering-wedge  of  attack  upon  the  city  proper. 
Suburbs  such  as  Lake  View  and  Hyde  Park,  having  town  or 
village  coundlt  of  their  own,  were  permitted  to  grant 
franchises  to  water,  gas,  and  street-railway  compames  duljr 
incorporated  under  the  laws  of  the  state.  Qmperwood 
calculated  diat  if  he  could  form  separate  and  seemingly 
distinct  companies  for  each  of  the  viUages  and  towns,  and 
one  general  company  for  the  dty  later,  he  would  be  ai  a 
podoon  to  dictate  terms  to  the  older  organizations.  It 
mM  dn^  a  quetdon  (tf  obtaining  his  charters  and 

4* 


CHICAGO  GAS 
franchises  befiwe  hii  rivalt  liad  awakened  to  the  ritti- 

*"tSc  one  <fifficoky  wa«  that  he  knew  ahniiittly  nothing 
of  the  business  of  eas-its  practical  manufactute  and  di>- 
tribution— and  had  never  been  particulariy  interwted  m 
it.  Streetraaroading,  his  favorite  form  of  muniapal  profit- 
seeking,  and  one  upon  which  he  had  acouired  an  aknost 
endless  fund  of  specialized  information^ered  no  pretent 
practical  opportunity  for  him  here  m  Chicago.  He  medi- 
tated on  the  situation,  did  some  readme  .on  Ae  n«UMyao- 
ture  of  gas,  and  then  suddenly,  as  was  htt  luck,  fomia  •« 
implement  ready  to  his  hand.      .  ,    ...  . 

ft  appeared  that  in  the  course  of  the  hfe  wad  growth  ot 
the  South  Side  company  there  had  once  b«n  » 
organization  founde«f  by  a  man  by  the  name  of  Sippens— 
Henry  De  Soto  Sippens— who  had  entered  and  actuaUy 
secured,  by  some  hocus-pocus,  a  franchise  to  manufactutt 
and  sell  gas  in  the  down-town  districts,  but  who  had  been 
annoyed  by  all  sorts  of  lesal  processes  until  he  had  finally 
been  driven  out  or  persuaded  to  get  out.  He  was  now  in 
thereal^estatebttsaMtiiiUkeW  OidPetwX«#l» 

^*^i^ra  smart  Uttle  cuss,"  Laughlin  told  Cowpetwood. 
"I  thort  onct  he'd  make  a  go  of  it,  but  they  ketched  him 
where  his  hair  was  short,  and  he  had  to  let  go.  There  was 
an  explosion  hi  Ws  tank  here  near  the  nver  onct,  an 
I  think  he  thort  them  fellers  blew  him  up.  Anyhow,  he 
got  out.   I  ain't  seen  net  heard  sight  of  him  fer  years. 

Cowperwood  sent  old  Peter  to  look  up  Mr.  Sippens  and 
find  out  what  he  was  really  doing,  and  whether  he  would 
be  interested  to  get  back  in  the  gas  business.  Enter,  then, 
a  few  days  later  into  the  office  of  Peter  Laughlm  &  Co. 
Henry  De  Soto  Sippens.  He  was  a  very  httle  nian,  about 
fifty  years  of  age;  he  wore  a  high,  four-cornered,  stIB 
felt  hat,  with  a  short  brown  business  coat  (which  in 
became  seersucker)  and  square-toed  shoes;  he  looked  for 
all  the  world  like  a  country  drug  or  book  store  owner,  witti 

Birhaps  the  air  of  a  country  doctor  or  lawyer  superadded, 
is  cuffs  protruded  too  far  from  his  coat-sleevM,  his  neck- 
tie bulged  too  far  out  of  his  vest,  and^his  high  hat  was  stC 
a  fi^i  tD9  fitf  htiA     W§  fispAnidi  ontniiii 

4S 


THE  TITAN 

acceptable,  pleasant,  and  interesting.  He  had  short  side- 
bums-^reddish  brown— which  stuck  out  quite  defiantly, 
and  his  eyebrows  were  heavy. 

"Mr.  Sippena,**  wid  Cowperwood,  blandly,  you  were 
once  in  the  gas  manufacturing  and  distributing  busmess  here 
in  Chicago,  weren't  you?"    .       ^  -  - 

**!  4mk  I  know  as  much  about  the  manufacture  of  gas 
as  any  one,"  replied  Sippens,  almost  contentiously.  I 
worked  at  it  for  a  number  of  years."  

"Wen,  now,  Mr.  Sippens,  I  was  thmkmg  that  it  might  be 
interesting  to  start  a  little  gas  company  in  one  of  these 
outlying  villages  that  are  growing  so  fiist  Mid  see  if  we 
ooidda't  make  some  money  out  of  it.  I'm  not  a  practical 
gas  man  myself,  but  I  thought  I  might  interest  some  one 
who  was."  He  looked  at  Sippens  in  a  friendly,  estintating 
way.  "I  have  heard  of  you  as  some  one  who  has  had  con- 
siderable experience  in  this  field  here  in  Chicago.  If  I 
should  get  up  a  company  of  this  kbd,  with  considerable 
backing,  do  you  think  yoit  migN  bt  w^ag  to  caks  Vm 

"'oETntnOTr^aU  about  this  gas  field,"  Mr.  Sippens  was 
about  to  say.  "It  can't  be  done."  But  he  changed  his 
mind  before  opening  his  lips.  "If  I  were  paid  enoi^,  he 
sakU  cautbui^.  *^  suppose  yoo  kaow  what  yoo  um  to 
contend  withr'   

"Oh  yes,"  Cowperwood  replied,  smiling.  What  would 
you  cmsider  'paid  enough'  to  mean?"  . 

"Oh,  if  I  were  given  sa' thousand  a  year  and  a  suffiaent 
interest  in  the  company— say,  a  half,  or  something  like  that 
—I  might  consider  it,**  repmed  Sippens,  determined,  as  he 
^ooght,  to  frighten  Cowperwood  off  by  his  exorbitant  de- 
mands. He  was  making  almost  six  thousand  dollars  a 
year  out  of  his  present  business. 

"You  wouldn't  think  that  four  thousand  in  several  com- 
panies— say  up  to  fifteen  thousand  dollars — ^and  an  interest 
of  about  a  tenth  in  each  would  be  better?"         .  ,  , 

Mr.  Sippens  meditated  carefully  on  this.  Plamly,  the 
man  before  him  was  no  trifling  beginner.  He  kwked  at 
Cowperwood  direwdly  and  saw  at  once,  without  any  ad- 
ditional explanarion  of  any  kind,  that  the  latter  was  pre- 
paring a  big  fight  of  some  sort.  Ten  years  before  Sippcnt 

44 


CHICAGO  GAS 

had  sowed  the  immense  possibilities  of  the  gas  business. 
He  had  tried  to  "get  in  on  it,"  but  had  been  sjwd,  way- 
laid, enjoined,  financially  blockaded,  and  finally  blomi  up. 
He  had  always  reMOlcd  the  treatment  he  had  receiv^,  and 
he  had  bitterly  regretted  his  inability  to  retahate.  He  had 
thought  his  days  of  financial  effort  were  oyer,  but  here 
was  a  man  who  was  subtly  suggesting  a  stirring  fight,  and 
who  was  calling  lam,  li£e  a  nunter  with  honi»  to  the 

"Well,  Mr.  Cowperwood,"  he  replied,  with  less  de- 
fiance and  more  camaraderie,  "if  you  could  «»ow  metoat 
you  have  a  legitimate  proposirion  m  hand  I  am  a  pracocal 
gas  man.  I  know  all  about  mains,  franchise  contracts, 
and  gas-machinery.  I  organized  and  installed  the  plant 
at  Dayton,  Ohio,  and  Rochester,  New  York.  I  would  have 
been  rich  if  I  had  got  here  a  littfe  eatfier."  The  cdio  of 
regret  was  in  his  voice. 

^•Well,  now,  here's  your  chance,  Mr.  Sippwis,  ^  ur^ed 
Cowperwood,  subtly.  Between  you  and  me  there  s  gomg 
to  be  a  big  new  gas  company  in  the  field.  We'll  make  these 
old  fellows  step  up  and  sec  us  quickly.  Doesnt  that 
interest  you?  There'll  be  plenty  of  money.  It  isn  t  that 
that's  wanting— it's  an  organizer,  a  fighter,  a  practical  gas 
mantob«^tt»p!amt,lay  themains,andsoon."  Cowper- 
v/ood  rose  suddenly,  straight  anc*  determined — a  tnck  with 
him  when  he  wanted  to  really  impress  aiw  one.  Helmed 
to  radiate  font,  conqueai,  -nctoiy.  "Do  yoo  wwt  to 
come  in?" 

"Yes,  I  ao,  Mr.  Cowperwood  1"  exclaimed  Sippens, 
jumping  to  his  feet,  putting  on  his  hat  and  shovins  it  far 
back  on  hit  head,  looked  like  a  cbest-ewoUco  bantam 
rooster. 

G>wperwood  todc  his  extended  hand. 

"Get  your  real-estate  affairs  in  order.  I'll  want  you  to 
get  me  a  franchise  in  Lake  View  shortly  and  build  me  a 
plant.  I'll  give  you  all  the  help  you  need.  I'll  arrange 
everything  to  your  satisfaction  withm  a  week  or  so.  We 
will  want  a  good  lawyer  or  two.**  /m.  l 

Sippens  smiled  ecstatically  as  he  left  the  office.  Oh,  the 
wonder  of  this,  and  after  ten  years  I  Now  he  would^^w 
those  crooks.  Now  he  had  a  real  fighter  bdibd  hmi— >a 

4S 


THE  TITAN 


man  like  himself.  .  Now,  by  Geor«,  ^J^J'^^JIJ^S 
flvl  Who  WM  this  man,  anyhow?  Wh«t  a  wooderi  to 
kok  him  up.  He  knew  that  from  now  on  he 
I^Ommm^  Ompefwood  wanted  hm» 


to  do. 


CHAPTER  Vin 


worn  THIS  IS  nGaT»o 

THEN  Cowpempod,  after  failing  in  his  ovettures  to 
y  Y  the  three  city  gas  companies,  confided  to  Addiaott 
his  plan  of  organizing  rival  compankt  m  Ae  subiuiM,  the 
banker  glared  at  him  apj>«ciative y.  .Xpuje  a  smart 
one!"  he  finaUy  exclaimed  "You'll  do!  I  back  you  to 
win!"  He  went  on  to  advise  Cowperwood  that  be  wouw 
need  the  asstMance  of  some  of  the  strong  men  on  the 
various  village  councils.  "They're  all  as  crooked  as  eels 
teeth,"  he  went  on.  "But  theie  axe  one  or  vtro  that  a« 
more  crooked  than  otheit  and  wfcr—bea-iwtfcew.  OMV 


you  got  your  lawj^r?* 
"fl       •     •  •  * 


.  haven't  picked  one  yet,  but  I  nffl. 
around  for  the  right  man  now."  ,      .      _   ^  *u.» 

"WeU,  of  course,  I  needn't  tell  you  how  importwit  that 
is.  There  it  ooe  man,  oMGowilViii  Sickle,  who  has  had 
considerabfe  tiaaiog  in  tiieie  aaatieit.  Het  htOy  »- 

**t£  entrance  of  Gen.  Tudsoo  P.  Van  Sickle  threw  at 
the  very  outset  a  suggestive  light  on  the  whole  si^atton. 
The  old  soldier,  over  fifty,  had  been  a  general  of  divisiop 
during  the  Civil  War,  and  had  p»t  his  real  start  m  life 
by  filing  false  titles  to  property  in  southern  IlUnow,  and 
then  bnnging  suits  to  substantiate  his  fraudulent  daunt 
before  fncndly  associates.  He  waa  now  a  prosperous 
go-between,  requiring  heavy  retainere,  and  yet  not  over- 
prosperous.  There  was  only  one  kind  of  buM»eM  that 
came  to  the  General— this  kind;  and  one  mstmrtively  com- 
pared him  to  that  decoy  sheep  at  the  stock-yards 
been  trained  to  go  forth  into  nervous,  frightened  iocki  of 
its  fdbw^eep,  balking  at  being  driven  into  the  slaughter- 
iiMilitni.  and  lead  tfaam  peacefully  into  t»e  sliainblf; 

47 


THE  TITAN 

knowing  enough  ahrtyi  to  make  his  oym  j^^VJ^^  «jj 
Serear  during  the  onward  progrew  and  thus  «cape.  A 
dw^  id  iS^er,  this,  with  Heaven  knows  what  welter 
rfXSd  wUl7b^ken  promises,  su^^    Junes,  inf  ue"^ 
SdJeTbribed  coundfinen  and  leguUtors,  double-inten- 
S5  i^ments  and  contract^  and  a  whole  world  of 
3SS?l3Slc3culations  and  false  pretenses  floatmg  around 
bSn?  W  the  poUticians.  .judges,  and  lawyers 
SineraUyJby  reason  o^f  pa«  Wul  -ennces  >  was  sup^ 
tT^ve  me  powerful  connections.   He  liked  to  be  «lled 
StoW^  Urgely  because  it  meant  something  to  do  and 
keA  him  fi^m  Sing  bored.  When  ^^if^^^'^J;^^^^, 
apbdntment  in  winter,  he  would  slip  on  an      Pf "J^* 
oF^y  twiU  that  he  had  worn  until  it  was  shabby.  di«. 
talan/down  a  loft  felt  hat,  twi««d  and  ouUed  out  of  shape 
bfu^  rwould  puU  it  low  over  hi.  "  K«y^»J 
amble  forth,   fa  summer  his  dothes  1<><>>'«^  "i^Jf**  g 
though  he  had  dept  in  them  for  weeks.   He  ffj^k^  if. 

of  countenance  be^was  not  whoUy  unUjeC^^ 
firant  with  a  short  gray  beard  and  mustache  wlucli  aiwayi 
SSSl^  i  SUempt and  hair  thgh-« down  over 
his  forehead  in  a  gray  mass.  The  poor  Gw^j 
ndther  very  happv  nor  venr  '»«»»j;y;-ji^^JS°~ 
without  faith  or  hope  m  humanity  and  wtctout  tay  pti^ 
ticular  affection  for  anybodx-  ^.^Jl.  Mr 

"I'll  tell  you  how  it  is  with  these  tmaH  counals,  Mr. 
Omvt^SJr  observed  Van  Sickle,  sagely,  after  the 
iSnaries  of  the  first  interview  »»«^P*^S^r^: 
«^They're  worse  than  the  city  coundl  ateiott,.and  that  s 
alM»t  »  bad  as  it  can  be.  You  can't  do  anythmg  without 

money  where  the^  Utde  ^^J^^ft^S^^  ,i  ^ 
like  to  be  too  hard  on  men,  but  tnete  teuowa       iw  www* 


"I  understand," commented Co^rwcKxl.  "Thrjr're not 
very  pleasing,  even  after  you  md»  aO  allowances. 

«^lloJt  of  them,"  went  on  the  General,   won't  my  put 
when  you  think  you  have  them.  They  sell 
jSTlJapt  as  no?  to  run  to  th»  North  S,de  Gas  Compwy 
and  tell  them  all  about  the  whole  thing  before  you  get 


MOW  THIS  IS  FIGHTING 
General  pultod  a  long  face.   *'StiU,  there  are  one  or  two  of 
^  Aft^^aU^^    added,  "if  y«^«f «  «« 
them  interested-Mr.  Domway       Mr.  G«w*t. 

'Tm  not  so  much  concerned  with  how  it  has  to  be  do^ 
General."  suggested  Cowperwood,  amiably,  but  I  wMt 
«f  he  sure  that  it  witt  be  done  quickly  and  auietly.  I  don  t 
S^^SbeHeredwithdetils.  fan ^"KiiSlJt 
toTmuch  pubUdty.  and  about  what  do  you  thmk  it  is 

'^'^ii^S.XJ^  P^tty  hard  to  say  until  I.J-k  «to  djs 
matter."  said  the  General,  thoughtfully.  I^J"^* 
only  four  and  it  might  cost  all  of  forty  thousaiul  doUaw- 
evSi  more.  I  caS^U.  I'd  to  take  a  Imte  ttme  a^ 
Eok  into  -it."  The  old  gentleman  was  wondering  how 
much  Cowperwood  was  prepared  to  spcsMt. 

"Well,  we  won't  bother  aW  that  now.  I 
K«  as  Uberal  as  necessary.   Fve  sent  for  Mr.  Sippens,  tne 
JjeSd«TrfSetSr>%ew  Gas  »«<».F«iCom^'^ 
K  behereinaUttlewhile.  You  wiU  wMtt  to  wwk  with 

him  as  closely  as  you  can.' 

The  energetic  Sippens  came  after  a  (ew  moments,  and 
he  «dTai?Sickle,^?fter  being  instructed  to  benj^jS^ 
helpful  and  to  keep  Cowperwood's  name  out  of  tH  »MUa 
reS  to  this  work,  departed  together.  .  They  were« 
Sd^r-the  dusty  old  General  phle«i^ 
usefiU,  but  not  inclined  to  feel  so;  »yd-^«j;!^S±^ 
SiDDOBS.  dctefinncd  to  wreak  a  kind  of  poeoc  vengeance 
on'ETolS^^y,       South  SideG«amp«^^ 
this  seemingly  remote  Noithside  conspiranr.   In  ten 
iSutSA^Jmw  hand  in  glove,  the  Generaf  d«cnbmg 
Ts^er^he  penurious  and  ^1 
Councilman  Duniway's  poUtics  «d  the  fa«»f^  «" 
pensive  character  of  Jacob  Gerecht.   S"ch  is  hfe. 

In  the  organization  of  the  Hyde  Park 
perwood.  because  he  never  cared  «»  P«  »  »•  ^  " 
Sne  basket,  decided  to  secure  »  '««>ndJ*S%  *  keeJ 
second  dummy  president,  although  hep««g^ 

De  Soto  Sippens  as  general 

four  compames.   He  vTas  thmkmg  this  matter  over  ^« 

there  appeared  on  die  •"'g^lS.^  1^^^ 
than  the  old  General,  one  Kcst  Wmtmt  mmm^mk^ 


THE  TITAN 

only  aon  of  ex-Judge  Manhall  Scamrnoa  McKftbcn,  of  Ae 
StMt  Sopnme  Court.   Kent  McKibben  was  thirty-three 
years  oW,  tall,  athletic,  and,  after  a  fadiion,  handsome. 
He  was  not  at  all  vague  MiteBectutDy^at  is,  in  the 
nUKter  of  the  conduct  o?  his  business— but  dandihed  and  at 
timea  remote.   He  had  an  oifice  in  one  of  the  best  blocks 
in  Dearborn  Street,  wWch  he  leadiedl  In  a  feterved,  specula- 
tive mood  every  morning  at  nine,  unless  something  impor- 
tant called  him  down-town  earlier.   It  so  happened  that  he 
had  drawn  up  the  deeds  and  agreements  for  the  real-estate 
company  that  sold  Cowperwood  his  lots  at  Thirty-seventh 
Street  and  Michigan  Avenue,  and  when  they  were  ready 
he  journeyed  to  tne  latter's  olice  to  ask  if  theie  wtie  any 
additional  details  which  Cowperwood  might  want  to  have 
taken  into  consideration.  When  he  was  ushered  m,  Cowper- 
wood tamed  to  him  his  keen,  analytical  eyes  and  saw  at 
once  a  personality  he  liked.   McKibben  was  just  remote 
and  artistic  enough  to  suit  him.   He  liked  his  clothes,  his 
agnostic  nnieadableness,  his  social  air.   McKibben,  on 
his  part,  caught  the  significance  of  the  supenor  finanaal 
atmosphere  at  once.   He  noted  Cowperwood's  light-brown 
suit  ptckfid  oat  with  strands  of  red,  his  maroon  tie,  and 
small  cameo  cuff-links.    His  desk,  glass-covered,  looked 
dean  and  official.   The  woodwork  of  the  rooms  was  aU 
cherry,  hand-rubbed  and  oiled,  the  pictures  interesting 
steel-engravings  of  American  life,  appropriatelv  framed. 
The  typewriter— at  that  time  just  introduced— was  m 
evidence,  and  iht  itock-ticker— also  new— was  ticking 
volubly  the  prices  current.   The  secrettry  wlw)  waited  on 
Cowperwood  was  a  young  Polish  giil  named  Antoinctcc 
Nowak,  reicnred,  seeming^  aaeute,  daik,  ud  wy  attiac- 

•'What  sort  of  business  is  it  you  handle,  Mr.  McKib- 
ben?** asked  Cowperwood,  guite  casually,  in  the  course  of 
the  conversation.  And  after  listening  to  McKibben  s 
explanation  he  added,  idly:  **Yoa  mi^ht  come  and  see  me 
some  time  next  week.  It  it  just  ponHsb  that  I  may  have 
scMnething  in  your  line." 

In  another  man  McfObben  would  have  resented  this 
remote  suggestion  of  future  aid.  Now,  instead,  he  was 
tnunsdy  ^eaaed.  The  man  before  him  gripped  his 

SO 


NOW  THIS  IS  FIGHTING 

imagination.  His  remote  inteUertualitv  reUwd.  Wh« 
he  came  again  and  Cowperwood  mdicat^.geiiatM» of  m 
work  he  might  wish  to  ksfo  wt  moumm  mm  m  tM 

bait  like  a  fish  to  a  fly.  .     ,     .     **  r.  

"I  wich  you  would  let  me  undertake  that,  Mr.  U»wper- 
wood,"  he  said,  quite  eaeerly.  "It's  something  I  ye  wver 
done,  but  I'm  satisfied  I  can  do  tt.  Ihye  out  w  gd« 
Park  and  know  most  of  the  ooiiacwncB*  I  CM  bnig 
considerable  influmce  to  bear  for  you." 
Cowperwood  smiled  pleanntly.  .     r  w  w-t 

So  a  second  company,  ofBcered  by  dummiet  of  McKJb- 
ben's  selection,  was  organized.  De  Soto  Sippens,  without 
old  General  Van  Sickle%  knowledge  was  taken  in  as  prac- 
tical adviser.  An  applkatiao  far  a  tauomte  was  drawn  up, 
and  Kent  Barrows  McKibben  Wga».Blent,  polite  work  on 
the  South  Side,  coming  into  the  confidence,  by  degrees,  ot 
the  various  councilmen. 

There  was  still  a  third  lawyer,  Burton  Stimson,  the 
youngest  but  assuredly  not  the  least  able  of  the  three,  a 
pale,  dark-haiied  Ronecnsh  youth  with  bwning  eyes,  whom 
Cowperwood  had  encountered  doing  some  """^"-f®* 
Lau^din,  and  who  was  engaged  to  work  on  the  West  bide 
with  oU  L^ui;hlin  as  oitensible  organizer  and  the  sprightly 
De  Soto  Sippens  as  practical  adviser.    Stimson  was  no 
mooning  Romeo,  however,  but  an  eager,  incisive  soul,  born 
very  poor,  eager  to  advance  himself.   Cowperwood  detected 
that  pliability  of  intellect  which,  while  it  «n»«nt  spell 
disaster  to  some,  spelled  success  for  him.   He  wanted  the 
intellectual  servants.   He  wa«  wiUing  to  pay  them  hand- 
somely, to  keep  them  busy,  to  treat  them  with  almost 
princely  courtesy,  but  he  must  have  the  utmost  lovalty. 
Stimson,  while  maintaining  his  calm  and  reserve,  could  have 
kissed  the  aich-epwcopal  hand.  Such  u  the  subtlety  of 
contact. 

Behold  then  at  once  on  the  Nordi  Side,  the  South  Side, 
the  West  Side-^ark  goings  to  and  fro  and  walkings  up  and 
down  in  the  earth.  &»  Lake  View  old  General  Van  Sickle 
and  De  Soto  Sippens,  conferring  with  "hrewd  Coimohnan 
Duniway,  druggist,  and  with  Jar^ 
idMlenie  BviSm^  hodiof  whM 


I 


T8E  TITAN 


'tarn,  holding  pleasant  back-room  an^l  drug-store  ccmfabt 
vmh  almost  tabulated  details  of  rewards  and  benefits. 
In  Hyde  Park,  Mr.  Kent  Barrows  McKibben,  smug  md 
nell  dressed,  a  Chesterfield  among  lawyers,  and  with  him 
one  J.  T.  BergdoU,  a  noble  hireling.  Ions-haired  and  diuty» 
ostensibly  president  of  the  Hyde  Par!;  Gas  and  Fuel  Com- 
mnqr*  conferring  with  Councilman  AU:-- 1  I'.  Davis,  manu- 
facturer of  willow  and  rattan  ware,  and  Mr.  Patrick  Gilfan, 
saloon-keeper,  arranging  a  prospective  diicnbstioa  dT 
shareS)  offering  certain  cash  consider  n  ion,  lots,  favors,  and 
the  like.  Ott>serve  also  in  the  village  of  Douglas  and  Weec 
Park  on  the  West  Side,  just  over  the  city  line,  dw  aofriH^ 
humorous  Peter  Laughfii  ttd  Bmm  mmtm  mmmmm 
a  noiflar  deal  or  deals. 

'I1ieeiieaiy,thecitygas  companies, being  divided iMuimw 
facdons,  were  in  no  way  prepared  for  what  was  now  coming. 
When  the  aew*  fina%  leaked  out  that  applications  for 
fianchhes  Ittd  fcecB  mde  to  €it  teveiti  corponte  village 
bodies  each  old  company  suspected  the  other  of  mvasion, 
treadiery,  robbery.  Pcttifoning  lawyers  were  sent,  eye 
hf  odb  company,  to  ^  viUs^  eomm  in  each  parricabr 
territory  involved,  but  no  one  of  the  companies  had  as  yet 
the  diantest  idea  who  was  back  of  it  all  or  of  the  general 
l^ua  of  operations.  Before  any  one  of  them  could  ttaam 
ably  protest,  before  it  could  decide  that  it  was  willing  to 
pay  a  very  great  deal  to  have  the  suburb  adiacent  to  its 

f»articular  tmkoiy  left  free,  bc£m  it  could  organize  a 
egal  fight,  councilmanic  ordinances  were  introduced  giv- 
ing the  applying  cor  oany  what  it  sought;  and  iht-r  a 
readinc  eaci  ase  and  oae  open  hearnag,  as  the  iaw 
compelled,  they  were  almost  unanimously  passed.  There 
were  loud  cries  of  >  ismay  fnmi  minor  suburban  papers 
m^ldi  had  almost  been  fcnottea  ib  arrangonent  oi 
rewards.  The  large  city  newspapers  cared  little  at  first, 
•eeing  these  were  outlying  distncts;  they  merely  made  the 
f^f^mf  tdiat  the  v^afes  were  beginning  well,  following 
in  the  stqfw  of  the  aty  oottDcil  in  tt>  imaaffmkmi  cMmr 
of  crime. 

Cowperwood  smiled  as  he  saw  in  the  morning  papers 
the  announcement  of  the  passage  o£  twA  otmamu 
granting  him  a  franchiue.   He  listened  widh  eooiCMt  tkMe^ 

5* 


NOW  THIS  U  f  IGHTIHG 

after  on  many  a  day  to  acc?  mte  by  I.aughlin,  Sippeiu, 
McKibben,  MM  Van  Sickle  q£  ovmwca  made  to  buy  tlMm 
out,  or  to  tafce  oyer  thrir  fnMwHhww.  Vk  wotkai  —  jpiMM 
with  Sippem  kwktng  to  the  actu^d  immii  Ai^n  o  gas- 
plants.  There  were  bond  issues  nam  to  float,  stock  to  be 
marketed,  ccmtracta  for  supplies  to  be  amfded,  actnd 
leservoirs  and  tanks  to  be  built,  and  pipes  to  be  !aid.  A 

fumped-up  pul^  oppositi(m  had  to  bie  i^mcofhcd  over, 
n  all  this  De  Soto  SippoM  proved  a  tramp,  Vm 
Sickle,  McKibben,  and  Stimson  *s  his  advigers  in  diffyat 
St  tions  of  the  city  Ik  would  prcsatt  tabtotd  prr-inn'Tinis 
t»  Cowperwood,  to  lAich  the  latww  had  inefely  *    ^<m  tm 
hi  ad  in  assent  or  say  no.   Then  D  Soto  v  ould     y  htt^ 
and  excavate.   CowMiwood  was  ^  pleas<.  d  ta^^   ^  v^ 
detetmtaed  to  keqp  Ue  Soeo  wi^  him  percM«e»  if 
Soto  was  pleased  to  think  th  •      v.     heme  -iven  .  ^ 
to  pay  up  old  scores  and  o  oc^  i^ige  thnp.    e  w:  eaUy 
gratefw. 

"We're  not  through  v  i  thf  -  Harp'  he  declared 
to  Cowperwood,  trkimphaitdiy,  use  da  'They'll  £^t 
US  win  suits.  TBsy  iwy  jona  4tt.      «^^^  ^ww 

up  my  gas-plant.   Th^v  may   low  up  o  -s.' 

"Let  them  blow,"  »aid  .wperwood  "We  can  blow, 
too,  and  sue  also.  I  0w  U^mim.  W^t  tie  them  up  so 
that  thif'll  kmt»  ipniini  m 
fuUy. 


I 


CHAPTER  IX 

HI  tlAKCH  Of  VKHNUr 

IN  die  mean  time  the  todal  affain  of  Aileeii  had  been 
prospering  in  a  small  way,  for  while  it  was  plain  that  they 
were  not  to  be  taken  up  at  once — that  was  not  to  be  ex- 
pected— it  was  sJsD  plain  that  the^  were  not  to  be  ignored 
entirely.  One  thing  that  helped  in  providing  a  nice  har- 
monious working  atmosphere  was  the  obvious  warm  affec- 
tkm  of  Cowperwood  for  his  wife.  While  many  mig>-«t  con- 
sider Aileen  a  little  brash  or  crude,  still  in  the  hands  of  so 
strong  and  capable  a  man  as  Cowperwood  she  might  prove 
available.  So  thought  Mrs.  Addison,  for  intcnec^  aaa  Mrs. 
Rambaud.  McKibben  and  Lord  felt  the  same  way.  If 
Cowperwood  loved  her,  as  he  seemed  to  do,  he  would  prob- 
aUy  *'put  her  through"  stccessfuUy.  And  he  really  did 
love  her,  after  his  fashion.  He  could  never  forget  how 
splendid  she  had  been  to  him  in  those  old  days  when, 
knowing  full  well  the  circumstances  of  his  home,  his  wife, 
his  children,  the  probable  opposition  of  her  own  family, 
she  had  thrown  over  convention  and  sought  his  love.  How 
fntfy  die  had  ^ven  of  hers  I  No  petty,  squeamish  bick- 
ering and  dickering  here.  He  had  been  "her  Frank"  from 
the  start,  and  he  still  felt  keenly  that  longing  in  her  to 
be  with  him,  to  be  his,  which  had  produced  those  first 
wonderful,  almost  terrible  days.  She  might  quarrel,  fret, 
fuss,  argue,  suspect,  and  accuse  him  of  flirtation  with  other 
im>men;  but  slight  variations  from  the  norm  in  his  case  did 
not  trouble  her — at  least  she  aigued  that  they  wouldn't. 
She  had  never  had  any  evidence*  She  was  ready  to  (to- 
give  him  anythii^  dw  mM,  wad  Am  waa,  toot  it  aaif  ha 
would  k»ve  her. 
**  Yott  devil,**  dM  used  to  say  to  him,  playfully.  "I  knew 

54 


IN  SEARCH  OF  VICTORY 

you.  I  can  tee  you  looking  around.  Th^^^s  a  nice  stenof- 
rapher  you  hvrt  in  the  office.   I  suppose  it  s  her. 
^•DoJt  be  silly.  Aileen."  he  would  reply.   "Dont  be 
coarse.  You  know  I  wouldn't  take  up  with  a  stenographer. 
An  office  wi't  the  place  for  that  sort  of  thmg. 
"Oh,  isn't  it?  Don't  silly  me.  I  know  you.  Any  old 

oUce  is  good  enough  for  you."  .  •  ci..» 

*Helai3icd,and»^ilifc  She.could  not  help  it.  She 
loved  him  so.  There  was  no  particular  b»ttemM«  m  her 
assaults.  She  loved  him,  and  very  often  he  would  tike 
hJTin  hi.  arms.  kis.  l»r  t-^'lj^  g^"  "J 

fine  big  baby?  Are  you  my  «d-headed  ^c^^D^ 
really  love  me  so  much?   Kiss  me.  then.     fnnUy.  pagan 
passL  in  these  two  ran  high.   So  long  as  they  were  not 
alienated  by  extraneous  things  he  could  never  hope  for 
more  deUcious  human  contact.  There  to  no  reaction 
either,  to  tpeak  of,  no  glwmy  disgust.    She  was  physi- 
callv  acceptable  to  him.   He  could  al^Y*  talk  to  herm 
a  genial,  teasing  way.  even  tender,  for  the  did  notJ««f 
his  intellectuality  with  prudish  or  conventional  potions 
Loving  and  foolish  as  she  was  in  .ome  ways,  she  would 
stand  llunt  reproof  or  correction.   She  codd  »ug^"J  » 
nebulous,  blundering  way  thmg.  that  would  b«  good  fw 
them  to  do.  MostofaUatpreiOittheirthoughtscenter^ 
upon  Chicago  society,  the  new  hou^  which  by.  no^^JJJ 
b^n  contraSed  for.  and  what  it  would  do  to  f»"litate  dwir 
introduction  and  standing.   Never  did  a  woman  shfe  look 
more  rosy,  AUeen  thought.   It  to  almost  too  food  to  be 
true.   Her  Frank  was  so  handsome,  so  loving,  so  ff"*™??: 
There  was  not  a  smaU  idea  about  hun.   What  if  he  did 
stray  from  her  at  timetf  He  remained  faithful  to  her 
spintuaUy,  and  she  knew  as  yet  of  no  single  ^stance  in 
which  he^ad  failed  her.   She  httle  knew,,  as  much  as  she 
knew,  how  blandly  he  could  be  md  pwtert  m  thwe  matters. 
But  he  was  fond  of  her  juit  tht  mm,  md  he  really  had  not 

'"SM»Sr*'3i?'Swp«wood  had  kmted  about  one 
hundred  thousand  dollars  in  his  gas-company  speculatwoi, 
and  he  was  jubilant  over  his  prospects;  the  franchises  were 
good  for  tw«ty  years.  ^  By  that  time  he  ''""^^j.^^^Jg; 
•»tv,  aai  Iw        prabaUy  hav«  b(M|h|» 

SS 


THE  TITAN 
or  idd  out  to  the  oMer  companies  at  a  Kreat  profit.  The 

vUe  ai  much  ai  thirty  thousand  dollars  m  pictures,  if  fce 
^Tm  S^^^^  and  to  have  A/een's  portrait 
Sed  while  shTwas  still  so  beautrful. 
ut  WM  again  bepnning  to  mterest  him  nrnnenseiy.  Aoai- 
^Sl  llw  or       cSkI  pictures-a  Rousseau,  a  Grej^. 


INlVCIIMn. 


and  one  Lawrence— pidwd  upHeaven 
nowt  whire.  "A  hotel-man  by  the 
^  x>ds  and  real-estate  merchant,  was  said 
striking  collection.  Addison  had  told  igjj" 
Trask,  a  hardware  prince,  who  was  mm  ^x^^etrng;  l^tt 
were  many  homes,  5ie  knew  where  art  WM  begmonc  to  be 
assembled.   He  must  begm,  toa  w 

Cowperwood,  once  the  franchises  H 
installed  Sippens  in  his  own  ofl&ce,  gmng  him  charge  for  the 
time  being.  Small  rented  offices  and  clerks  were  mamtained 
i  the  re^on  where  practical  plant-buiWing  was  wing  on 
i&  sortsof  suits  to  enjoin,  annul,  and  «»train  had  been 
bceun  by  the  various  old  companies,  but  McKibben, 
sSon.  and  old  General  Van  S&kle  tme  figMmf  th«je 
S^Tijan  vigor  and  complacency.   It  was  a  pW 
scene.   Still  no  one  knew  very  much  of  Cowperwood  s 
entrance  into  Chicago  as  yet.   He  was  a  ^"f^tKi 
His  name  had  not  even  appeared  in  «>nnectton  with  tlus 
work.   Other  men  were^  be,W  celebrated  d^^V' » 
his  envy.  When  worfd  he  W«  to  shine?   Soon,  now, 
wrely.   So  off  they  went  in  June,  comfortable,  nch.  gay. 
in  thi  best  of         and  spirits,  mtent  upon  enjoymg  to  tbe 
full  their  first  hofidiy  »worf. 

It  was  a  wonderful  trip.  Addison  was  good  enough  t» 
telegraph  iowers  to  New  York  for  Mrs.  Cowperwood  to  be 
de^r?d  on  shipboard,  McKibben  «=ntJ>«>kl^«*J«^^ 
Cowperwood,  uncertam  whether  anyHy.  ^7™*  J^? 
ftSS;,  ordered  them  himself-two  amazing  l>?«kets,  wh^h 
with  Addison's  made  three-and  these,  with  attached 
cards,  awaited  them  in  the  lobby  of  the  main  dedt.  S^mm 
at  d&  captam*!  table  took  pams  to  seek  out  the  Cowper- 
wl^ds.  They  were  invited  fo  join  several  card-paraes  and 
to  atttsd  informal  conceru.  It  was  a  rough  passage  mm' 

S6 


IN  SEARCH  OF  VICTORY 

ever,  and  Aileen  was  sick.   It  was  hard  to  make 
look  just  nice  enough,  and  so  she  kept  to  her  room,  bhe 
was  very  haughty,  distant  to  all  but  a  few,  and  to  these 
SifK  her  Conversation.   Sh.  Wl  b«»etf  camnf  to  be  a 

"^'irf^SriSSg*^  had  almost  exhausted  the  resources 
of  the  Donovan  establishment  in  Chicago.  Lmgcn^ 
boudoir  cortumcj,  walking-costumes,  "^'%^Jl^!'l^_ 
ning  cortiffliet  the  possMWd  m  plenty.  She  had  a  jewd. 
bag  hidden  away  about  her  person  contaming  all  of  thirty 
Sfu«md  doUari'  worth  of  Wels. .  Her  shoes,  stockinp^ 

of  all  this  Cowperwood  was  rather  proud  of  her.   She  had 
such  a  capacit^  for  life.   His  first  w^fc  had  been  pale  and 
riSe?  animic?while  Aileen  was  fairiv  bursting  with  sheer 
physical  vitality.    She  hummed        jested  and  pnmped 
Inl  posed.   There  are  some  souls  that  J"»^  »«! 
prevSit  fevitkm  or  introspection.  The 
Lg  past  was  a  mere  suggestion  "  Aileen^imbr  vis^^ 
ifatall.  Shemayhaveheardthattherewefeom»diii«»iwt 
and  flying  reptiles,  but  if  so  it  made  no  deep  tmp/ession  on 
her.  ?omebSdy  had  said,  or  was  ^^V^^'^^^  Zu^hW 
descended  from  monkeys.  wh.ch  was  quite  absurd,  though  it 
b«  true  enough.  On  the  sea  the  thrashmg  hills  of 
^^te^u^d  a  kind  of  immensitv  terror, 
not  the  immenifty  of  the  p<^s  heart,   the     J  wj. 
the  captain  at  table  in  brass  buttons  and  blue  "n»fon"» 
to  be  Sice  to  hei^old  her  ^.   Her  faith,  re»lb^  w" 
captain.   And  there  with  her.  .hrays. 
lookinc  at  tlus  whole,  moving  spectacle  of  life  with  a  sus- 
pkioSf.  not  appiehcMive.  but  wary  eye,  and  saying  noth- 

'"!n  L<S,d^n  letters  given  them  by  Addison  brought  sevejl 
invitations  to  the  opera,  to  dinner,  to  Goodwood  for  a  week- 
end.  and  so  on.  (farriages.  tallyhoe..  cabs  fo' "ding  were 
invoked.  A  week-end  invitafon  to  a  houseboat  on  the 
Thames  wa.  •ecuied..  ,TheV  :  ^•bjw^..  I^k.ng^^ 
all  this  ai  «  fatncW  .d  le.  ipod  ^ 
dom,  were  courteous  and  c  i.  nothing  ^^'^^ 
was  intcMely  curious.  She  noted  seiyanti,  QMimmt 
forms.   TiiiintHiiHly  At 

0 


THE  TITAN 
was  not  tooa  9^»i  " 

*^Sow,  Aileen.  you  and  I  have  to  live  in  C^k^  for 
vears  and  years,"  commented  Cowperwood.  Don  t  get 
Sfd  This  ^ple  don't  care  for  .Americans,  can't  you 
diat  ?  ThiTwouldn't  acc«|it  «•  if  we  were  over  here-^ 
S  yS  anyho^.  We're  merely  passmg  stran^jf.  being 
SurWusly  entertained.''   Cowperwood  saw  it  afl. 

Swnro  being  spoUed  in  a  way,  but  there  was  no  help. 
Sh^tTss^aS^r^d     The  Englishmen  uj^t^ 
at  hei— in  Hyde  Park,  where  she  rode  and  drove,  at  Uar- 
idgJXte  A  «ayed;  in  Bond  Street  .^ereshes^^^^^^ 
TRe  Englishwomen,  the  majonty  of  them  r«nott,  lUm 
conservative,  simple  in  their  tastes,  lifted  their  eyes. 
0>™r^S3[  sensed  the  situation,  but  s.:d  nothing.  He 

lovTAileen,  and  she  «>«»?f«7f  ^^^Sld  adiJS 
for  the  present,  anyhow,  beautiful.  If  "J^Sr 
£  mtion  in  Chicago,  that  would  be  s"ffi««nf/°^,f. 

After  th^weeks  <I«yj*=£2;^^ 
which  Aileen  patronized  the  anaent  and  boiioraMe  gioiw 

^5:S*"^^;^sTc£«S^tra  d^^^^^^  enthusiasm. 
«You  kiSw,"  she  said  to  Cowperwood,  quite  sok^, 
ti4  seoM^  morning,  "the  English  don't  know  how  to 
d^ss^ho^ht  they  did,  but  the  smartest  of  them  copy 
the  French.  Jake  tio«»«i  we  jiaw^laK  night  m  the 
Caftd'Anglai^  There  waan^t  an  Einitthmin  i  aaw  uw 

***'wLrof  itr  reolied  AUeen.   "I  like  it.   If  you're 

going  to  be  smart,  wliy  not  be  very  smart  r 

™f  know  that's  your  theory,  my  dear,  he  said,   but  it 

can  be  overdone.  There  '^l^^^^V^l^ 
You  have  to  compronOee  em  Wfmimt  look  ^^^^^^ 
m  ought.  You  can't  be  too  very  ronspicuoustjr  diffefew 
horn  your  neighbors,  even  in  the  n^direcoon. 

"You  know,'' she  •Md,ttqjpinti»«  «w»«^  * 


IN  SEARCH  OF  VICTORY 
believe  vou're  going  to  get  very  conservative  some  d«y- 

^\7ca™  and  touched  h^^ 
"Well,  one  of  us  ought  to  be,  for  the  good  of  the  fanuly, 

he  commented,  half  nniling.  ^tK«r  " 

"I'm  not  so  sure,  though,  that  it  will  be  3^»V«J^^ 
"  It's  a  charming  day.   Sec  how  nice  those  wjnte-marwe 

statues  k^t   Shfu  ^cp>  Cluny^r  W^^^^^^^ 

Fontainbleattf  T<HiiiliHi'«        »  aee  Bernhardt  at  the 

^'ffiTWa.  «  gay.   It  wa.  «  apkadid  to  be  tr«^ 

n5  S^irtSSr  tJip^ia^^^  taste  for  art  and 

'§e»nc?ujs,rce^ra^^^^^ 

tLmXrTon^of  the  dealers  in  London,  who  at  once 
reSSd  in  hin  a  possible  future  patron,  he  was  invited 

TiSnpS.  the  revivd  of  hi,  fonn.r .«.«»«  « 
Irtitiie  nodeoTof  that  future  coUecoon  which  wm  to 
mean  »  much  to  him  m  tow  y««y-  OiicMo  man- 

S9 


THE  TITAN 


suggested  by  Taylor  Lord,  was  adopted.  Mr.  Lord  figured 
that  it  would  take  all  of  a  year,  perhaps  a  year  and  a  half, 
to  deliver  it  in  perfect  order,  but  time  was  of  no  great  im- 
portance in  this  connecti<m.  In  the  mean  while  they  could 
strengthen  their  social  cMUWCtions  and  prepare  for  that 
interesting  day  when  they  should  be  of  the  Chica^  ftte. 

There  were,  at  this  time,  several  element!  m  Chicago — 
those  who,  having  grown  suddenly  rich  from  dull  poverty, 
could  not  so  easily  forget  the  villain  church  and  the  village 
social  standards;  those  who,  havine  inherited  wealth,  or 
migrated  from  the  East  where  wealtn  was  old,  understood 
more  of  the  savoirfaire  the  game;  and  those  who,  being 
newly  bom  into  wealth  and  seeing  the  drift  toward  a 
smarter  American  life,  were  beginning  to  wish  they  might 
dune  m  it — these  last  the  very  yovmg  people.  The 
latter  were  just  beginning  to  dream  of  dances  at  Kinsley  s, 
a  stated  Kirmess,  and  summer  diversions  of  the  European 
Icittd,  but  they  had  not  arrived  as  yet.  The  first  dass,  al- 
though by  far  the  dullest  and  most  bovine,  was  still  the 
most  powerful  because  they  were  the  richest,  money  as  yet 
pra^fidmt  die  highest  standard.  Tlw  ftmctioiis  vdiich  these 
people  provided  were  stupid  to  the  vei^  of  distraction; 
really  they  were  only  the  week-day  receptions  and  Sunday- 
aftemoen  calls  of  Siqueedunk  and  HoIk^us  raised  to  the 
nth  power.  The  purpose  of  the  whole  matter  was  to 
see  and  be  seen.  Novelty  in  either  thought  or  action  was 
decidedly  eschewed.  It  was,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  custom- 
ariness  of  thought  and  action  and  the  quintnsence  of  con- 
vention that  was  desired.  The  idea  of  introducing  a 
"play  actress,"  for  instance,  as  was  done  occasionally  in 
the  East  or  in  London — ^never;  even  a  singer  or  an  artist 
was  eyed  askance.  One  could  easily  go  too  farl  But  a 
European  prince  should  have  strayeato  Chicago  (which 
he  never  did)  or  if  an  Eastern  soaal  magnate  chanced  to 
stay  over  a  train  or  two,  then  the  topmost  dfde  <^  local 
wealth  was  prepared  to  strain  itself  to  the  breaking-point. 

Cowperwood  had  sensed  all  this  on  his  arrival,  but  he 
fancied  that  if  he  became  rkh  and  powerful  enough  he  and 
ASbea,  with  their  fine  house  to  help  them,  might  well  be  the 
leavoi  which  would  lighten  the  vdu^  lump.  Unfortunate- 
ly, Aileen  was  too  obviously  on  the  fttt'sMr  for  those  oppoc^ 

60 


IN  SEARCH  OF  VICTORY 

tunities  which  might  lead  to  social  recognition  and  rauality, 
if  not  supremacy.   Like  the  savage,  unorganized  fer  pi»- 
rectkm  wid  at  the  mercy  of  the  horrific  capnce  of  nature, 
she  was  almost  tremulous  at  times  with  ^ou^its  of  pos^ 
sible  failure.   Almost  at  once  she  had  recognised  nenelf 
as  mnuited  temperamentally  for  association  with  certain 
types  of  society  women.  The  wife  of  Anson  Me"»y» 
great  dry-goods  prince,  whom  she  saw  in  one  or  the  down- 
town itores  one  day,  impressed  her  as  much  too  cold  and 
remote.   Mrs.  Merrill  was  a  woman  of  superior  mood  and 
education  who  found  herself,  in  her  own  esttmattcm,  bard 
put  to  it  for  suitable  companionship  in  Chicago.    She  was 
Eastern-bred— Boston— and  familiar  in  an  offhwid  way 
with  the  superior  world  of  London,  which  she  had  visited 
several  times.    Chicago  at  its  best  was  to  her  a  sordid 
commercial  mess.   She  preferred  New  York  or  Washii»- 
ton,  but  she  had  to  five  here.  Thus  she  patronized  nearly 
all  of  those  with  whom  she  condescended  to  assoaate,  using 
an  upward  tUt  of  the  head,  a  tired  droop  of  the  eyebds,  and 
a  fine  ufmaid  aithaig  of  the  km  t»  ladiam      tnit  it 

sil  WSIS* 

It  was  a  Mrs.  Henry  Huddlestone  who  had  pointed  out 
Mrs.  MerriH  to  Afleen.  Mrs.  Huddlestone  was  the  wife  of 
a  soap-manufacturer  living  very  close  to  the  Cowperwoods 
temporary  htmie,  and  she  and  her  husband  were  on  the 
outw  fringe  of  society.  She  had  heard  that  the  Cowper- 
woods were  people  ot  wealth,  that  they  were  [noidly  witli 
the  Addisons,  and  that  they  were  going  to  build  a  two- 
hundied-thousand-doUar  mansion.  (The  value  of  houses 
always  grow  in  the  telling.)  That  was  enoueh.  She  bad 
called,  being  three  doors  away,  to  leave  her  card;  and  AUMn, 
willing  to  curry  favor  here  and  there,  had  responded.  Mrs. 
Huddlestone  was  a  little  woman,  not  very  attractive  in 
appearance,  clever  in  a  social  way,  and  eminently  practtcai. 

^Speaking  of  Mrs.  Merrill,"  commented  Mrs.  Huddle- 
stone, on  this  particular  day,  "there  she  is— near  the  dress- 
goods  counter.   She  always  carries  that  lorgnette  in  juK 

Ail«m  turned  and  examined  criticalhr  a  tall,  dark,  to- 
der  woman  of  the  hi|^  worid  of  ^  — — . 


THE  TITAN 
"  Yott  don't  kwwr  herr  nwMiiomA  Mkm,  caMf, 


veyins  her  at  leisure. 
'•No."  lepUed  Mrs.  Huddlestone,  defenMvely.  They 

to  much.**  ,     ,       r  t      •   •  -I 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  just  the  glory  of  the  prmapal 
families  that  they  were  above  this  arbitrary  division  of 
"sides/*  and  could  pick  their  asaocistM  from  aU  three 

divinons.  • 

"Oh!"  observed  Aileen,  nonchalantly.  She  was  8«:retly 
irritated  to  think  that  Mrs.  Huddlestone  should  tod  it 
necessary  to  point  out  Mrs.  Merrill  to  her  as  a  tupenw 

P*J?You  know,  she  darkens  her  eyebrows  a  little,  I  tlunk,** 
suggested  Mrs.  Huddlestone,  studying  her  enviously.  M« 
hu^  and,  they  say,  isn't  the  most  faithful  person  m  the  world. 
T  .e's  another  woman,  a  Mrs.  Qaddens^at  jives  very 
close  to  them  that  he's  very  much  mterested  m. 

**Ohr  said  Aileen,  cautiously.  After  her  own  Philadel- 
phia experience  she  had  decided  to  be  on  her  guyi  and  not 
indulge  in  too  much  gossip.  Arrows  of  am  particmar  maa 
could  so  readily  fly  in  her  direction.  „  ,.  , 
"  But  her  set  b  really  much  the  smartest,  compumented 
Aileen's  companion.  •  u  »/! 

Thereafter  it  was  Aileen's  ambition  to  assoaate  with  Mrs. 
Anson  Merrill,  to  be  fully  and  freely  accepted  by  b^.  bhe 
did  not  know,  although  she  might  hxn  Smni,  tttt  tbat 
ambition  was  never  to  be  realized.  .  ^ 

But  there  were  others  who  had  called  at  the  first  U)wper- 
wood  home,  or  with  whom  the  Cowperwoods  managed  to 
form  an  acquaintance.  There  were  the  Sunderland  bledds, 
Mr.  Sledd  being  general  traflBc  manager  of  one  of  v  t 
•otttfawestem  rulways  entering  the  city,  and  a  gendeman 
of  taste  and  culture  and  some  wealth;  his  wife  an  amDiOws 
nobody.  There  were  the  Walter  Rysam  Cottons,  C«ton 
bong  a  whoieaak  coffee-broker,  but  more  espeoally  a  local 
social  litterateur;  his  wife  a  graduate  of  Vassar.  There  were 
the  Norric  Simmses,  Simms  being  secretary  and  treanHW 
nf  tfw  Douglas  Trust  and  Savings  Company,  Mf]^ 
in  another  group  of  financial  people,  a  t«>up  eMreiyfflJ- 
tinct  from  that  represented  by  Addison  and  KmumwI. 

6ft 


IN  SEARCH  OF  VICTORY 

Othiy.  included  the  Stamsbm  ^^^^'SS^&h^^ 
the  Duane  KinedandMHW-defcontheiW 
Mcken;  the  Bradford  Canda«,  jewelen.  ,  All  these  people 
S^idtoK«ietl»nE.«ci.Uy.  ^SS»y 
homes  and  substantial  incomes,  to  that  they  were  ^rtfcy 
of  ^nsideration.  The  difference  between  Aileen  and  mo^ 
of  the  women  involved  a  difference  between,  naturalism  and 
Ulusion.  But  this  caBf  §ar  soine  explanation. 

To  really  know  the  state  of  the  femimne  mmd  at  ^ 
*i^m  An»  would  have  to  bo  back  to  that  period  m  the 

JiS;  halfTchooled  in  die  facts  of  Ufe,  JunounAed  w«WB 
a  mystical  halo.  Smce  that  day  the  maid«i  and  the 
mittii  JTJS  ha.  been  schooled  to  beUeve  that  she  w 
SVfa.er  clay  than  man.  that  she  wa- boinw  ujOA  ^ 
and  that  her  favors  are  priceless.  This  «>«^««^  "Jf 
^romance,  having  nothing  to  do  ^rth  persOT^jroraluj^ 
has  bi^t  abSft,  neveSieless,  a  »»oh5^jin;<bcm^ 
tude  of  women  toward,  men,  and  TJIIJ 
women.  Now  the  Chicago  atmosphere  m  which  Afle«i 
Sherself  was  composed  t!^^^^i^JSJ^ 
The  ladies  to  whom  she  had  been  H»™3*i;^**LX 
high  woiid  of  fancy.   They  concaved  thi^vw  to  be 

pelfect.  even  as  they^weie  «P'«^^^J».'^SXS?th^ 
in  fiction.  Their  husbands  must  be  modeli,  worthy  of  th«r 

highideals,  and  other  women  must  havje  no  blemish  of  any 
kiSd.  Aiken,  uigent,  elemental,  ^^^^^X^.^^^l^ 
all  this  if  she  coufd  have  understood.  Not  »mde.-U-^ 
she  felt  diffident  and  uncertain  of  hewelf  m  certain  P^*""*; 

Instance  in  this  connectiMi  Mn.  Nyie  Simms,  who  was 
a  satelUte  of  Mrs.  Anson  MernB.    To  be  invited  to.  the 
Anmm  MemW  for  tea.  dinner,  lunch«>n,  or  to  be  dnv«i 
down-town  by  Mrs.  MerrUU  wa.  n^.j^ 
She  loved  to  recite  the  ion  mo^  of  her  idol,  » 
upon  her  astonishing  degree  of  culture,  to  "''"te  Iww 
pwple  refused  on  occasion  to  Wieve  that      ™  the  ^ 
of  JCuoa  MerriU,  even  thoudi  ■!«  b«self  deda«d  rt^ 
tho«  old  ch^nuts  of  the  ioml  worfd  which  ««f  ^a^^ 
their  origin  in  Egypt  and  Chaldea.  Mrs.  Smims  !»rseir 


THE  TITAN 

children  (Uttle  girls)  had  been  taught  all  the  social  graces 
of  the  dajr-to  pose,  smirk,  genuflect,  and  the  lite,  to 
the  umnense  deheht  of  their  elders.  The  nurw  in  tSoM 
was  mumform,  the^emesi  was  a  much  put-upon  person. 
Mrs.  ^mmm  bad  m  iiigh  mnMr,  eyes  for  those  above  her 

whS.  d^rri  .oXT  *"  *• «-«»»««-  « 

Duriag  the  first  dinner  at  which  she  entertained  the 

PhZS^J^l-^"-  ^""T'  attempted  to  dig  into  Aileen's 
Philadelphia  history,  asking  if  she  knew  the  Arthur  Leighs. 
the  Trevor  Drakes,  lloberta  Willing,  or  the  Martyn  Walken! 
Mrs.  Sunms  did  not  know  them  herself,  but  she  had  heard 
Mrs.  MernU  speak  of  them,  and  that  was  enough  of  a 
handle  whereby  to  swing  them.  Aileen,  auick  oiTthe  de- 
ISf^k  u  manfully  on  her  own  behalf,  assured  her 

that  slw  had  known  them,  as  indeed  she  had—very  casually 
Z23i  u  J  u  ^  connect*!  her  with  Cowper- 

to  m" Me^.  *^  •  "^*'™*  f«n«My 
Aflem  feared  that  if  this  sort  of  thing  continued  it  would 
■oon  be  aU  over  town  that  she  had  been  a  mittrets  before 
she  had  been  a  wife,  that  she  had  been  the«5SiSSi 
ompondent  in  the  divorce  suit,  and  that  C^moS 
liad  beenm  pmoii.  Only  his  wealth  and  her  beauw  omSS 
save  her;  and  would  they?  ' 

uSSf  !Sf  iS^fcSi^r^  f^^'r  ^ «  Duane  King.- 
naor,  aiM  Mn. Radford  Cauda  had  asked  her,  in  what 
seemed  a  verv  significant  way,  whether  she  had  ever  met 

J  Don't  you  suppose  they  must  know,  some  of  dMB. 
about  us?"' she  asked  Cowperwood,  on  the  way  homT' 
I  suppose  so,"  he  replied,  thoughtfully.   "I'm  sure  I 
TfL .       •    l'^«>H''Jn  «  yfo^'y  about  that  if  I  were  you. 
If  you  worry  about  it  you'U  suggest  it  to  them.    I  haven't 

no  riffht  tn  nttt  »»  -  -  mtm 


no  right  to  put  me  there.' 

^^^•r  s^^A"^:'. t 


IN  8SA1CH  OP  VICTORY 

AofM,  We  are  not  the  only  onct  thtt  have  had  marriage 
troubles,  I'm  sure." 

"There's  iust  one  thuw  about  this;  either  they  accept  us 
or  thev  d<»rt.  If  they  iaa\  well  and  good;  we  can't  help 
it.  We'll  go  on  and  finish  the  house,  and  give  them  a  chance 
to  be  decent.  If  they  won't  be,  there  are  other  cidea. 
Money  wiH  arrange  matten  in  New  York— dttt  I  know. 
We  can  build  a  real  place  there,  and  go  in  on  aqual  terma 
if  we  have  money  enough — and  I  will  have  moB/n  enough*" 
he  added,  after  a  mmnent's  pondermg.  "mver  mur. 
I'll  make  millions  here,  whether  they  want  me  to  or  not, 
and  after  that—well,  after  that,  we'll  see  what  we'll  see. 
DMi't  worry.  I  haven't  seen  mny  tfoiMea  in  woild 
that  monev  wouldn't  cure." 

His  teeth  had  that  even  set  that  they  always  assumed 
when  he  was  dnttroudy  m  eametc  He  took  hSkmfB 
hand,  however,  and  pressied  it  gentlv. 

"Don't  worry,"  he  repeated.  "C^iicago  isn't  the  only 
city,  aad  we  won't  be  lint  pommt  pcq^  in  America,  d^n^ 
in  ten  years.  Just  keep  up  ymm  CMfaft*  It  iriB  cmw 
out  right.   It's  certain  ta 

A3eai  looked  out  on  ikm  lunp^  hw%tM  at  llkhinai 
Avome,  down  which  they  were  rolling  past  many  nMK 
nuamon*.  The  tops  of  all  the  lamps  were  white,  mi 
fleuned  through  the  shadows,  iecamig  to  a  thin  point. 
It  was  dark,  but  fresh  and  pleasant.  Oh,  if  only  Frank's 
money  could  buy  them  posirion  and  friendship  in  this  in- 
teresting worM;  if  it  only  woiddt  ^She  did  not  quite 
realize  now  much  on  her  mm  ptmtuXk^g  Of  dw  Itdk  m  k^ 
this  struggle  depended. 

a 


CHAPTER  X 

A  TEST 

THE  opening  of  the  house  in  Michigan  Avenue  occurred 
late  in  November  in  the  fall S.»»^*«"if 
when  Aileen  and  Ccmperwood  had  been  ^^Xv**£2 
two  years.   Altogether,  between  people  whom  they  l»ad 
it  the  raceaT  at  various  d  nners  and  teas,  and  at  n- 
Spti^LrfS^iSn  -Hi  Calumet  Qubs  (to  which  ^w- 
oerwood,  through  Addison's  backmg,  had  been  admitted) 
£d^  whoJ  McKibben  and  Lor3  influenced,  theyjere 
^  to  tend  mvitatkms  to  about  thr«  hundred,  of  who^ 
»me  two  hundred  and  fifty  responded.   Upto  thu^^ 
owins  to  Cowperwood's  quiet  manipulation  of  hw  altiiri, 
^r?had  beerno  comment  on  his  past-no  particular  in- 
Swst  in  it.   He  had  money,  affable  ^ay^a  n^jne^P*^ 
aonalitv.  The  business  men  of  the  city— thow^fhom  Re  met 
Mdally-were  inclined  to  consider  him  fascinating  and  very 
Sfvcr.^  Aileen  being  beautiful  and 
was  accepted  at  more  or  less  her  own  value,  thoogB  me 
kinsly  high  world  knew  them  not.  .  j 

if  Is  amazing  what  a  showing  the  socially  unpla^c^ 
make  on  occasion  where  tact  and  disoimmationare  wA. 
There  a  weekly  social  paper  published  m  Chicago  at 
this  time,  a  rather  able  puhiicaaonas 
which  Cowperwood,  with  McKibben's  anutanoe,  had 
SSUteto  service.  Not  much  can  be  done  under  any 
^itances  where  » 

f^m,  as  m  this  case,  there  is  a  temvaamm  , 
esBlMerable  wealth,  and  great  force  and  maoietism,  all 
SVre  possible.  Kent  McIObben  knew  florton  Bjg- 
im,  the  editor,  who  was  a  laAer  dewlate  and  dinllu- 
So^  person  of  forty-five,  gray,  and  depressed  -  looking 
— »  aort  of  human  sponge  or  bamade  who  was  only  gal- 


A  TEST 

"'"^ou  know  the  CawpefwcK>d8,  don't  TO*  ^^TJ^^ 
"No."  replied  the  latter,  who  ^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

wise  to  the  more  exclusive  ardes.     Who  . 
"Whv  he'i  a  banker  over  here  in  La  Salle  Mreet. 

They^^from  Philadelphia.   Mrs.  Cowperwood>  a  b^ 

f ul  wcinaMTOung  and  all  that.   The/re  buildmg  a  houi» 
T\.^rZKrk^  Avenue.   You  ought  to  know  d.em. 

out  here  on  Miougan  nvenue.    «  j;-nna  like  them. 

They're  going  to  get  m,  I  think.   The  Addi^  uy  tura. 

If  vou  TO  to  be  nice  to  ther^  now  I  t>»«*^%f  »»^P'^. 

i,- k^er    He's  rathtr  a^tkal,  and  a  good  fellow. 

"m^S^'cked'upWsears.  /hi.  sodaf  journ^jm  WM 

liberallv,  to  his  paper.  Not  lon«  after  thn  bn.  ^taiitv^^r^ 
SSSKed  isSUription 

of  the  Saturday  Rivma,  y^^r^^W^^^r!^^  ^- 
one  hundred  doUais  to  Mr.  Hor«li  ^i^f*!;  r,, 
auently  certain  not  very  ^'^"^^f^^^.^  ^ 
Siat  when  the  Cowpcrwoods  ^,.v 
function  received  wmment  hv  the  fST^; ' 

otherwise.   It  looked  as  though  theCow|i«w«di  mwrt  De 

favored:  but  who  were  they,  anyUowr   

^  dan»er  of  pubUdty,  and  even  moderate  "oaal  tt^ 
cetL  k  STt^andS  loves  a  shining  mark.  When  bqp 
r'stand  ouf  The  leapt  way  in  life^  as^pa^te  fnjnjle 
mass,  the  cognoscenti  wish  to  know  who,  what,  «»a 
Thr«wdtt««Sm  of  Aileen.,  combined  with  the  gemujc^ 
Cowperwood,  w»  fo^mald^  S'SSSS 

j^^iis  Kisses  oZ^^i^  a£?gs 

67 


THE  TITAN 


was  to  take  notable  chances.  The  more  cautious  membeit 
oif  Chicago  sodety,  even  if  they  did  not  attend,  would  hear» 
and  then  would  come  ultimate  comment  and  decision. 

The  function  began  with  a  reception  at  four,  which  lasted 
until  six-thirty,  and  this  was  followed  by  a  dance  at  idne, 
with  music  by  a  famous  stringed  orchestra  of  Chicago,  a 
musical  programme  by  artists  of  considerable  importance, 
and  a  gorgeous  supper  from  eleven  until  one  in  a  Chinese 
fairyland  of  lights,  at  small  tables  filling  three  of  the 
ground-floor  rooms.  As  an  added  fillip  to  the  occasion 
Cowperwood  had  hung,  not  only  dM  impofftMit  pictures 
which  he  had  purchased  abroad,  but  a  new  one — a  particu- 
larly brilliant  Gerome,  then  in  the  heydav  of  his  exoric  pop- 
ularity— a  oicture  of  nude  odaKaquw  of  iIm  femm,  ialine 
beside  the  highly  colored  stone  marqintiy  of  an  oriental 
bath.  It  was  more  or  less  "loose"  art  for  Chicago,  shock- 
ing to  the  urattttMody  though  harmless  enough  to  the  il- 
luminari;  but  it  gave  a  touch  of  color  to  the  art-gallery 
which  the  latter  needed.  There  was  also,  newly  arrived  and 
newly  hung,  a  portrait  of  Aileen  by  a  Dutch  artttt,  Jan  van 
Beers,  whom  tney  had  encountered  the  previous  summer 
at  Brussels.  He  had  painted  Aileen  in  nine  sittings,  a 
rather  brilliant  canvas,  high  in  key,  with  a  summery, 
Of  .of-door  worid  behind  her — a  low  stMie-curbed  podi,  the 
red  corner  of  a  Dutch  brick  palace,  a  tulip-bed,  and  a  blue 
sky  with  fleecy  clouds.  Aileen  was  seated  on  the  curved 
arm  of  a  stone  bench,  green  grass  at  her  feet,  a  pink-and- 
white  parasd  widi  a  lacy  edge  held  idly  to  one  side;  her 
rounded,  vigorous  figure  clad  in  the  latest  mode  of  Paris, 
a  white  and  blue  stnoed-silk  walking-suit,  with  a  blue-and- 
wlttte4»aiided  straw  nat,  fnde-brimmed,  ainr,  shading  her 
lusty,  animal  eyes.  The  artist  had  caught  her  spirit  quite 
accurately,  the  dash,  the  assumption,  the  bravado  bsaed 
on  the  cmirage  of  inexperience,  or  lack  of  nm  aubtlety. 
A  refreshine  thing  in  its  wav.  a  Httle  showy,  m  emrydbu^ 
that  related  to  her  was,  and  inclined  to  arouse  jealcNMy  in 
tkeae  not  so  liberally  endowed  by  life,  but  fine  as  a  character 
piece.  In  the  warm  glow  of  the  guttered  gas-jets  she  looked 
paruculariy  brilliant  here,  pampered,  idle,  jaunty — the 
weB-kept,  stall-fed  pet  of  »e  woiM.  Many  stopped  to  see, 
mi  tmrnm  wm  the  eonnents,  prhrate  mm  inlMiiwiiii. 

68 


A  TEST 

This  day  began  with  a  iunr  of  uncertainty  and  worried 
mticipation  on  the  part  of  Aifcen.  At  Cowperwoods  sug- 
gestion she  had  employed  a  social  secretary,  a  poor  hack  of 
a  pd,  iAm  had  sent  out  all  the  letters,  tabulated  the  re- 
plies, run  errands,  and  advised  on  one  detail  and  another. 
Fadette,  her  French  maid,  was  in  the  throes  of  prepanng 
for  two  toilets  which  would  have  to  be  made  this  day,  one 
by  two  o'clock  at  least,  another  between  six  and  eight.  Her 
"mon  dieus"  and  "par  bUus"  could  be  heard  contmuoudy 
as  At  hunted  for  some  article  of  dress  or  polished  an  orna- 
ment, buckle,  or  pin.  The  struggle  of  Aileen  to  beperfect 
was,  as  usual,  severe.  Her  meditations,  as  to  the  moat  be- 
coming gown  to  wear  were  trying.  Her  portrait  was  on 
the  east  wall  in  the  art-gallery,  a  spur  to  emulation;  she 
felt  as  though  all  society  were  about  to  judge  her.  Theresa 
Donovan,  the  local  dressmaker,  had  given  some  advice;  but 
Aileen  decided  on  a  heavy  brown  velvet  constructed  by 
Worth,  of  Pam--«  thing  of  varving  aspects,  showmg  her 
neck  and  arms  to  perfection,  and  composing  charmingly 
with  her  flesh  and  hair.  She  tried  amethyst  ear-  nngs  and 
changed  to  topaz;  she  stockinged  her  legs  in  brown  silk, 
and  her  fettim  ahod  in  bwim  sMpen  with  nd  cnamd 

butt<MU*  ...  , 

The  trouble  with  Aileen  was  tlutt  she  never  did  these 
^Bgs  with  that  ease  which  is  a  sure  sipi  of  the  socially 
efictcnt.  She  never  quite  so  much  dominated  a  situation 
as  she  permitted  it  to  dominate  her.  Only  the  superior 
ease  and  graciousness  of  Cowperwood  earned  her  through 
at  times;  but  that  always  did.  When  he  was  near  she  Wt 
quite  the  great  Urfy,  suited  to  any  realm.  When  she  was 
alone  her  cot  rage,  great  as  it  was,  often  trembled  m  the 
balance.   Her  dangerous  pa*t  was  never  quite  out  of  her 

At  four  Kent  McKibben,  smug  in  his  afternoon  frocly 
his  quick,  receptive  eyes  approving  only  partially  of  ai 
thit  show  and  effort,  took  his  place  in  the  general  reception- 
room,  talking  to  Taylor  Lord,  who  had  compiet^  his  last 
observation  and  was  leaving  to  return  later  m  the  evening. 
If  these  two  had  been  closer  friends,  auite  intimate,  they 
would  have  discussed  the  Cowperwoods'  social  pw»Pfcg» 
but  as  it  was,  they  confined  thenidvet  to  mm  """**"■ 


THE  TITAN 

alities.  At  this  moment  Ailecit  came  down-ttain  for  a 
moment,  radiant.  Kent  McKibben  thought  he  had  never 
seen  her  look  more  beautiful.  After  all,  contrasted  with 
•ome  of  the  stuiFy  creatures  who  moved  about  m  aociety, 
gluewd,  hard,  bony,  calculatinfo  trading  on  their  assured 

Eosition,  she  was  admirable.   It  waa  a  pity  she  did  not 
ave  more  poise;  she  ought  to  be  a  btde  toider--yot  quite 
m^M.  SdH,witk  Cowptimd  ttlMT  ad^Ae  miiM 

Really,  Mrs.  Cowperm)od,''  l»  ■«4 nw« 
Naming.  I  was  just  telling  Mr.  Loti  mn  that  I  con- 
sider the  house  a  triumph."  ,  .    •  l  x  j 

From  McKibben,  who  was  la  iOciMy,  and  with  Lord, 
another  "in"  standing  bf »  iMt  mm  Wk»  mm  to  AilMii. 
She  beamed  joyously.  «,  .       »     i  \m 

Among  the  first  arrivab  were  Mrt.  Webster  Israels,  Mm. 
Bradford  Canda,  and  Mrs.  Walter  Rysam  Cotton,  who  were 
to  assist  in  receivina.  These  ladies  did  not  know  that  th^ 
were  taking  their  future  reputations  for  sagaaty  and  dia- 
crimination  in  their  hands;  they  had  been  earned  away 
by  the  show  of  luxury  of  Aileen,  the  growing  finanaal 
repute  of  Cowperwood,  and  the  artistic  qualities  of  the  iiew 
house.  Mrs.  Webster  Israels's  mouth  was  of  such  a  oecubar 
shape  that  Aileen  was  always  reminded  of  a  fish;  but  she 
was  not  tttterly  homely,  and  to-day  she  looked  bnsk  and 
attractive.  Mrs.  Bradford  Cauda,  whose  old  rose  and 
silver-gray  dress  made  up  in  part  for  an  amazing  angular- 
ity, but  wlio  was  diaiBUBg  mM,  was  the  soul  of  mterest, 
for  she  believed  this  to  be  a  very  significant  affair.  »»rfc 
Walter  Rysam  Cotton,  a  younger  woman  than  eitl^  of 
tiw  otiwfs,  had  the  po^  of  Vassar  life  about  her,  and  was 
"above"  many  things.  Somehow  she  half  suspected  the 
Cowperwoods  might  not  do,  but  they  were  makiiy  strides^ 
and  tniriit  pocsiMy  sufpaw  siBodHt aiplmMM.  ItMteBivaa 

htr  to  be  pleasant.   

Life  passes  trom  individuality  and  separattneM  at  times 
to  a  sort  of  Monticelliesque  mood  of  color,  where  individual- 
ity is  nothin  ,  the  Rlittering  totality  all.  The  new  house, 
with  its  charming  French  windows  on  the  ground  tow,  its 
twiTT  Wads  of  stone  floweis  and  deep-sunk  Borated  door, 
wm  mm  cwssdid  indi  a  aMma|»  wtorfiil  flow  of  pcopk. 


A  TEST 

Many  whom  AUeen  and  Cowperwood  did  notknow  «t  aU 
had  been  invited  by  McO»ben  and  Lord;  thiT  «»»  ^ 
wm  mwr  introduced.  The  adjacent  side  streett  and  the 
open  apace  in  front  of  the  houae  were  crowded  with  d^p- 
ing  hortea  and  smartly  Teneoed  cunapes.  AM  witt  MB 
the  Cowperwoods  had  been  the  least  mtimate  came  early, 

and,  fingig  the  ««e  ^^^Jj^  ^SH^d  S^puS 
roained  for  some  tone.  Tfce  etteivb  Kmaiey,  naa  "upP"^ 
a  small  army  of  trained  servants  who  were  posted  Uke  sol- 
diers, and  caiefuUy  supenryed  by  the_Cowpyrwood  butiw. 
The  new  dinnrtoom,  fW»  »  fJ«P««J 
cobr,  was  aglow  with  a  wealth  of  glass  and  an  *roa^ 
miMement  of  delicacies.  The  afternoon  costumes  of  the 
women,  ranging  throueh  autumnal  grays,  purples,  browns, 
and  greenM»lended  effectively  with  the  brown-tinted  wallf 
of  the  entry-hall,  the  deep  gray  and  gold  of  the  general 
liviag-foooi,  the  otd-Roflna  lii  «f  the  dming-room,  the 
whT^and-gold  of  dw  ■uiip  wnw,  aid  dw  mmtd  aaptt 

by  the  eonnieous  presence  of  Cpwper^ 
wood,  who,  in  the  dining-room,  the  fibrary,  and  the  art- 
saUeiy,  was  holding  a  private  levee  of  men,  stood  up  m  ner 
vam  Seaoty,  a  thing  to  see— almost  to  weep  over,  embody- 
ing the  vanity  of  all  aeemina  things,  the  mockeryof  Hav- 
ing and  yet  not  having.  This  parading  throng  that  wai 
moM  CMitWM  than  interested,  more  jealous  than  tympa- 
Sirtic.  moia  dkieal  than  kiad,  waa  coming  abnoac  lofely 

*°^Do  you  know,  Mrs.  Cowperwood,"  Mrs.  Simms  re- 
marked, lightly,  "your  house  reminds  me  of  an  art  exhibit 
to-day.   I  hardly  know  why.**  .  .     ,    ,      ,  , 

AUeen,  who  caught  the  imphed  slur,  had  no  clever  words 
wherewith  to  reply.  She  waa  not  gifted  m  that  way,  but 
she  flared  with  resentment. 

"Do  you  think  sof**  she  replied,  caustically.  ... 

Mrs.  Simms,  not  all  dissatisfied  with^rfect  the  had 
produced,  paued  on  with  r  gay  air,  attended  ay  a  yMBg 
artist  who  followed  amorot  sly  m  her  train. 

Aileen  saw  from  thb  awl  <^  thuiM  hke  it  how  litUe 
she  was  really  " in."  The  ea^ialfa  lat  #«ot  t«k5  either 
her  or  Qw»i>inmud  aariouily  aa  yife  fcilpaitfcaaa* 

71 


THE  TITAN 

the  comparatively  dull  Mrs.  Israels,  who  had  been  standing 
beside  her  at  the  time,  and  who  had  heard  the  remark; 
and  yet  Mrs.  Israels  was  much  better  than  nothing.  Mn. 
Simms  had  condescended  a  mild  "how'd  do"  to  the  latter. 

It  was  in  vain  that  the  Addisons,  Sledds,  Kingslands, 
llcwckiwnati  and  others  made  Aeir  appearance;  Aileen 
was  not  reassured.  However,  after  dinner  the  voimger 
set,  influenced  by  McKibben,  came  to  dwce,  and  Aileen 
wm  at  ker  best  in  spite  of  her  doubts.  Sht  was  say,  bold, 
attractive.  Kent  McKibben,  a  past  master  in  the  maaet 
and  mysteries  of  the  grand  march,  had  the  pleasure  of  lead- 
ing her  in  thit  airy,  fairy  procession,  followed  by  Q)wper- 
wood,  idbo  am^e  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Simww  Aileen,  in  white 
satin  wi^  a  touch  of  sihw  here  and  dwre  uid  mAktt 
bracelet,  ear-rings,  and  hair-ornament  of  diamonds,  glittered 
in  almoac  an  exotic  way.  She  wm  pontively  tadiant. 
McKibben,  almost  aauttcn,  was  OMt  anntim^ 

"This  is  such  a  pleasure,"  he  wIliipMN^  iMaMtti^ 
"Yon  ace  vetv  beMtttfuft— a  dxeamr 

"IIm  «Mii  M  wm  m  v«y  luliaiaiiM  vm,"  nmu&i 

"Weuy  that  I  find,"  be  lau^Md,  nilyi  and 

.  JiflBen,  gatnenng  tne  mhoi  stginiw  aoBg,  wwwi  mm  mmi 

teasingly.    Mrs.  Simms,  engrossed  by  &Mp«fPBO^  CO«M 
not  hnr  aa  she  would  have  liked. 
Aftar      nmcii  AAmb*  wrroundcd  by  a  halMoam  of 

gay,  ruddy  thoughtless  young  bloods,  escorted  them  all 
to  see  her  portrait.  The  conservative  omimented  on  the 
§mf  ti  mmtt  dw  imenaely  Mida  Gerome  at  one  end  of  die 
olery,  and  tlw  sparkling  portrait  of  Aileen  at  the  other, 
me  enthusiasm  of  some  of  the  young  OMn  for  her  com- 
pany. Mrs.  Rambaad,  i^annt  um  landly,  remarked 
to  her  husband  that  Atleoi  was  "very  eager  for  life,"  she 
thought.  Mrs.  Addiscm,  astonished  at  the  material  flare 
of  the  Cowperwoodg,  qaste  transcending  in  glitter  if  not 
in  sixe  and  solidity  anything  she  and  Edison  had  ever 
achieved,  ronarked  to  faier  husband  ^t  "he  must  be  mak- 
ing money  very  fast." 

^'The  man's  a  bom  financier,  Ella,"  Addison  explained, 
aemcntioualy.  "He's  a  manipulator,  and  he's  sure  to 
fliiba«Mii&  HiiAv  they  can  §0  mm  woamy  I  M% 


A  TEST 

know.  He  could  if  he  were  alone,  that*!  luit.  Sbf» 
beatidfult  hm  l»  needs  another  kwd  off  womaa*  rm  auud. 
SlwV  almost  too  good-looking."        .      .  - 

♦♦Hiat's  what  I  think,  too.  I  like  her,  but  I  m  •fraid 
jhe's  not  goinc  t<>  play  her  cards  right.   It's  too  bad,  too. 

Just  then  Mtcn  came  by,  a  smihng  youth  on  either  side, 
her  own  face  glowing  with  a  warmth  of  joy  engendered 
by  much  flattery.  The  biB-foom,  which  was  composed 
of  the  music  and  drawing  rooms  thrown  into  one,  was  now 
the  objective.  It  ditteied  before  her  with  a  »^[>p«»fon85 
the  air  was  full  <*  *•  ote  «f  lliiHH>  «*  ifci  Mini  of 


music  and  voices.  ,  «  ^ 

"Mrs.  Cowperwood,**  observed  Bradftwd   

Hofton  Biggeit,  the  aodety  editor,  is  one  of  the  prettiest 
women  I  Im  iMB  Ml  ft  long  tune.  She't  almott  too 

^^^iw  do  ywt  tW*  iWf  ttliBir  tli»  cintk^ 

^'^harming.  but  she's  hardly  cold  cnoagh,  Pm  afraid; 
hardly  clever  enough.  It  takes  a  more  serious  type,  bhes 
a  little  too  high-spirited.  These  old  women  would  gver 
want  to  get  near  her;  she  makes  them  locw  toooW.  imra 
do  better  if  she  were  not  so  young  and  so  pretty. 

"That's  what  I  think  exactly,"  said  Diggers.    As  a 
matter  of  fact,  he  did  not  Amk  so  at  afl;  he  had  no  Power 
of  drawing  any  such  accurate  conclusions.    But  M 
lieved  it  DOW,  btcause  Bradford  Cauda  had  aaid  it. 


CHAPTER  XI 
m  nium  or  bmkori 

NEXT  morning,  over  the  breakfart  cups  atthe  Norrie 
Simmies'  and  elsewhere,  the  imoort  «  tte  Cemon- 
V  jod^  iocW  efforts  was  discussed  and  the  problem  of  their 
•wntual  acceptance  or  non-acceptance  carefully  weiriied. 

•*The  trouble  with  Mrs.  Cowperwood,**  obaer^  Mtt. 
Simms,  "is  that  she  is  too  gauchf.  The  whole  thing  was 
much  too  showy.  The  idea  of  her  portrait  at  one  end  of  the 
galleiy  and  that  Gerome  at  the  ottier!  And  then  this  item 
in  the  Pws  this  morning!  Why,  you'd  really  think  they 
wen  in  society."  Mrs.  Sinuns  was  already  a  little  angry 
at  hmg  let  heraelf  be  laed,  as  she  now  fancied  she  had 
been,     TM«  Loid  md  teat  Md^kkm,  botk  focndt 


of  hen. 

**What  did  you  t!nnk  of  tlie  cnmdr  aslrad  Nonie, 

buttering  a  roll. 

"Why,  it  wasn't  representative  at  all,  of  course.  We 
were  me  most  important  people  they  had  there,  and  1  m 
sorry  now  that  we  went.  Who  are  the  Israelses  and  the 
Hoecksemas.  anyhow?  That  dreadful  woman!'  (She  was 
ie(MigtoMrs.  HoeckMi».)  **!  OMT iMNMd  to  ddler 

remarks  in  my  life."  .  .    «      .    .     r  ». 

"  I  was  talking  to  Haguemn  of  the  Press  m  the  afternoon, 
obwrved  Norrie.   "He  says  that  Cowperwood  foikd  m 
Philadelphia  before  he  came  here,  and  that  Wtm  mm  • 
lot  of  lawsuits.   Did  you  ever  hear  that.*" 

"No.  But  she  says  she  knows  the  Drakes  and  the 
Walkers  there.  I've  been  intending  to  ask  Nellie  about 
that.  I  have  often  wondered  why  he  should  leave  Phila- 
delphia if  he  was  getting  along  ao  wdL  Feople  dort 
usually  do  that."  ■  •    l  • 

Simms  was  envious  already  of  the  fananaal  showing 

74 


THE  FRUITS  OF  DARING 

Cowpenrood  WM  nakiat  in  Chkato..  besides, 
wood's  maimer  bespoke  »uoreme  mteUwence  "J 
lid  that  i.  ahray.  resent^>y  aU  Mve  "JPP^f  ~ 
triumphant  maateii  of  other  walks  m  Ufe.  Smims  was 
rSty^iested  at  last  to  know  Miicthuis  more  aboiit 
Cowperwood,  something  definite. 

Before  this  social  situation  had  time  to  adjwt.itself  one 
way  or  the  other,  however,  a  matter  aroee  wtach  m  its  way 
^  far  more  viul.  though  Aileen  "^^^  not  haveA^^ 
so.  The  feeling  between  the  new  android  gas  compMff 
was  becoming  strainedi  the  Jf!! 
ontanization  were  getting  uneasy.  They  were  eager  to 
fi?d  oS  who  was  bick  ofthese  'SlJ^^l^^^^ 
were  threatening  to  poach  on  th«r 
Finally  one  of  the  lawyers  who  had  been  employi^  by  the 
North^  Chicago  Gas  rUuminating  Companv  to  fight  the 
machinatioi^^Qf  De  Soto  Sippens  and  old  General  Vjn 
Sickle,  finding  that  the  Lake  View  Council  had  finally 
granted  the  franchise  to  the  ne«r  comply  ««f  ^^VJ^ 
Appellate  Court  was  about  to  "/^.^Sm^ 
of  charging  conspiracy  and  wholesale  bribery  of  councilmen. 

ConsidlSlle  evidence  had  »«"»"l*«d<,;£*i.Pg^^ 
Jacob  Gerecht,  and  others  on  the  North  Side  bid  «- 
Bu«^cea  by  cash,  and  to  bring  legal  action  would  dday 

finS^^pS^al  of  Ae  franchi«*  »»l«^^TVr  NoS"*Sde 
time  to  think  what  else  to  do.  .This  No^  &de 
company  lawyer,  a  man  by  the  name  of 
following  up  the  movements  of  Sippens  «doW^n«iJ 

Van  Sic&e,  and  had  fin»K<=on^«<*«^,**i.*^,T;a^^^ 
dummies  and  pawns,  and  that  the  real  instigator  » 
excitement  wa^  Cowperwood,or.  if  not  he,  th«}  m«  whom 

he  represented.  Paw»~  C^'^flT^^Kl^SSJS 
day  in  order  to  see  him;  getting  no 

to  look  up  his  record  and  connections.  Th^  varwitt 
investigations  and  amntei^hemings  JJ^f 
court^roceeding  filed  in  the  United  States  Cn^^^ourt 
late  in  NovemSr,  charging  Frank  Algernon  CWn^ 
Henry  De  Soto  Sippens,  Judson  P.  Van  Sickle,  and 
with  "conspiracy;  tViis  again  was  i«"°7i*|?*'Si,"^ 
diatdy  by  tuitt  begun  by  the  West  and  South  bida  cem- 

7$ 


THE  TITAN 

panics  charging  the  same  thing.  In  each  case  Cowper- 
nood't  name  was  mendoned  as  the  secret  power  behind  dM 
new  companies,  conspiring  to  force  the  old  companies  to 
buv  him  out.  His  Philadelphia  history  was  published,  but 
only  in  pan — a  hi^ljr  modified  account  henad  fumyied 
dw  newspapers  some  time  before.  Though  conspiracy  and 
bribery  are  ugly  words,  still  lawyers'  charges  prove  mMUiice. 
But  a  penitentiary  record,  for  whatever  reason  served, 
coupled  with  previous  failure,  divorce,  and  scandal  (though 
the  newspapers  made  only  the  most  guarded  reference  to  all 
this),  served  to  whet  public  intereat  and  to  §x  Cowperwooi 
and  his  wife  in  the  public  eye. 

Cowperwuod  himself  was  solicited  for  an  interview,  but 
his  answer  was  that  he  was  merely  a  financial  aaent  for 
the  three  new  companies,  not  an  mvestor;  aiul  Mat  the 
diarges,  in  ao  far  as  he  was  C(»icemed,  were  untrue,  mere 
legal  fol-de-rol  trumped  up  to  make  the  situation  as  an- 
noying as  possible.  He  threatened  to  sue  for  libel.  Never- 
theless, althoi^  dicse  suits  eventually  did  come  to  nodi- 
ing  (for  he  had  fixed  it  so  that  he  could  not  be  traced  save 
as  a  financial  agent  in  each  case),  yet  the  charges  had  been 
ma^  and  he  was  now  reveded  as  a  direwd,  madbulattve 
^Ktor,  with  a  record  that  was  certainly  spectacular. 

"I  see,"  said  Anson  Merrill  to  his  wife,  one  morning  at 
hfaaiEfast,  "that  this  man  Cowperwood  is  b^inninK  to  get 
his  name  in  the  papers."  He  had  the  Timts  on  the  table 
before  him,  and  was  looking  at  a  head-line  which,  after  the 
old^ashioned  pyramids  then  in  vogue,  read:  "Conspiracy 
charged  against  various  Chicago  citizens.  Frank  Algernon 
Cowperwood.  Judson  P.  Van  Sickle,  Henry  De  Soto  Sip- 
pen^  rad  ooiers  named  in  Circuit  Court  compiaint."  It 
went  on  to  specify  odicr  hxa,  "I  aupposcd  1m  wm  jiwt 
a  broker." 

"I  don't  know  much  about  them,"  replied  his  wife,  "ex- 
ceM  what  Bella  Simms  tells  me.  What  dom  k  aayf" 
He  handed  her  the  paper. 

"I  have  always  thought  they  were  merely  climbers," 
continued  Mrs.  Merrill.    "Fmn  wiiM  I  haw  iht  k  in* 
pontble.   I  never  saw  her." 
"He  begins  well  for  a  Philaddphian,"  smiled  MenS. 
Iv»  seen  him  at  the  Calumet.  He  looka  lika  a  v«fy 

76 


THE  FRUITS  OF  DARING 

shrewd  man  to  wm.  H«'t  foiag  about  Im  troik  in  a  biiik 

spirit,  anyhow/* 

Similarly  Mr.  Norman  Schryhart,  a  man  who  up  to  this 
time  had  taken  no  thought  of  Cowperwood,  althou|^  he  had 
noted  his  appearance  aoout  the  hallt  of  the  Calumet  and 
Union  League  Qubs,  began  to  ask  seriously  who  he  was. 
Schryhart,  a  man  of  great  phymal  and  mental  vifw,  nx 
feet  tall,  hale  and  ttoGd  at  an  ok,  a  very  diffinem  type  of 
man  from  Anson  Merrill,  met  Addison  one  dav  at  the 
Calumet  Qub  shortly  after  the  newspaper  talk  bcfra. 
Sinking  into  a  great  leather  divan  beaMe  him,  l»  w> 
served: 

"Who  is  this  man  Cowperwood  wboae  name  is  in  the 

Eapers  these  days,  Addisoiif  You  know  li  tlMae  people. 
Kdn't  you  introduce  him  to  me  once?** 
"I  surely  did,"  rnlied  Addison, cheerfully,  who,  in  spite 
of  the  attacks  on  Cowperwood,  was  rather  phaaed  ikm 
otherwise.  It  was  auite  plain  from  the  concurrent  excite- 
ment that  attended  all  this  struttle,  that  Cowperwood 
must  be  managinf^  things  ra^er  uSamj,  and,  best  of  all, 
he  was  keepina  his  badcers'  names  from  view.  "He's  a 
Philadelphian  by  birth.  He  came  out  here  several  years 
aso,  and  went  mto  die  grain  and  commission  busmeia. 
He's  a  banker  now.  A  nithar  ahseiid  uam^  I  should  u^* 
He  has  a  lot  of  money." 

"Is  it  true,  as  the  papers  say,  thtt  ho  ftlld  Ibr  a  flnKM 
in  Philadelphia  in  1871?" 
"  In  so  far  as  I  know,  it  is." 
"Well,  was  ha  in  the  penitenriaiy  down  there?" 
"I  think  so— yes.   I  believe  it  was  for  nothing  realty 
criminal,  though.  There  appears  to  have  been  some  pt^ti- 
cal-6nancial  mix-up,  firon  m  I  eao  leam." 
"And  is  he  only  forty,  as  the  papers  sayi" 
"About  that,  I  should  judge.  Why?" 
"Oh,  this  scheme  of  hk  mkM  rather  prct  rntious  to  me— 
holding  up  the  old  gas  cQBipMiiai  hwo.  il>o  3ml  snfpnas 
he'll  manage  to  do  it?" 

"I  ^n't  know  that.  All  I  know  is  what  I  have  read  in 
the  papers,"  replied  Addison,  cauriouslv.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  he  did  not  care  to  tsdk  about  tms  business  at  alL 


THE  TITAN 

attempting  to  effect  a  compromise  and  union  of  all  iatercttt 
cooceroed.   It  was  not  going  very  well.  , 

••Humphr  commented  Schiyhart.  He  was  wondenng 
why  men  like  himself,  Merrill,  Araeel,  and  oth^  had  not 
^rkcd  into  thia  field  long  ago  or  bought  mit  the  oM  cob»- 
PMiidl  Ht  ^mm  away  interested,  and  a  day  or  two  later 
!Ieven  the  next  morning— had  formulated  a  scheme.  Not 
mlike  Cowperwood,  he  was  a  shrewd,  hard,  cold  man.  Me 
bdityed  in  (5iicar>  impUcitly  and  m  aU  that  related  to  its 
future.  This  gas  situation,  now  that  Cowperwood  had 
seen  the  point,  was  very  dear  to  him.  Even  yet  it  might 
not  be  impossible  for  » third  party  to  step  m  andby  intn- 
cate  manipulation  secure  the  much  coveted  rewards,  rei^ 
haps  Cowperwood  himself  could  be  taken  over— wl»  cnya 
tdlP 

Mr.  Schryhart,  being  a  very  dominating,  type  of  person, 
did  not  believe  in  minor  paitnefshtpi  or  mvestmenti,  a 
he  went  into  a  thing  of  this  kind  it  was  his  preference 
to  nile.  He  decided  to  invite  Cowperwood  to  visit  the 
Schryhart  office  and  talk  matters  over.  Accordmgly,  he 
had  his  secretary  pen  a  note,  which  m  rather  lofty  phrases 
invited  Cowperwood  to  call  "on  a  matter  of  unportance. 

Now  just  at  thw  time,  it  to  chanced,  Cowperwood  was 
feeling  rather  secure  as  to  his  place  in  the  Chicago  finanaal 
world,  althou^  he  was  still  smarting  from  the  bitterness 
of  the  aspernom  recently  caat  npon  him  from  vanoui 
quarters.  Under  such  circumstances  it  was  his  tem- 
neramtnt  to  evince  a  rugged  contempt  for  humanity, 
!^  and  poor  dike.  He  ww  wd  aware  that  Schryhart, 
aklKnigh  intradttced,  bad  mnwt  pfevioudy  troubled  to 

notice  him.  ...  » 

"Mr.  Cowperwood  bees  me  to  say,  wrote  Miss  An- 
toinette Nowak,  at  his  dictation,  that  he  finds  himselt 
very  much  pressed  for  time  at  present,  but  he  would  be 
glad  to  see  Mr.  Schryhart  at  his  office  at  any  time. 

This  irritated  the  dominating,  self-suffiaent  Schryhart  a 
little,  but  nevertheless  he  was  satisfied  that  a  conferawe 
could  do  no  harm  in  this  instance-^^  advisable,  in  fact. 
So  one  Wednesday  afternoon  he  joumeyedto  the  oftce  oi 
Cowperwood,  and  was  most  hospitably  received.  ^  

"Ifow  do  m  do»  Mr.  Schryhart."  obwrvid  Cuwperwood, 

78 


THE  FRUITS  OF  DAtIKO 

cordiidly.  estMMliiic  hi.  hand.   "  I'm  glad  to  see  )W» 
T\2&^imtMtmet  befoic  several  yean^afo. 
^  W«rJ?^JSf/-  «plied  Mr.  Schryhar^wbowM 
broad-ilwuldered,  aguaie-headed.  bUck-eyed.  and  with  a 

hard,  dark.  pierciMeyei..  f^ffeJr^Kf^Si?  ^^JS 
be  truated/he  •^^Sn^  U  ♦iKfT^er  ^ 
are  interetting  youraalf  in  local  ga^   I»  ^  „ 

rWraiS  Jhe  paper,  cannot  be  tg^KSi  .Sd 
repUed  Cowpenrood,  quite  blandly.^  WojM  yo"  ound 
teflmg  me  ii*iat  flMte  ym  iMMM  to  Wttm  mnm 

WeUto  teU  the  truth,"  repUed  Schryhait,  ftaring.at 
A,  fimLJw  "I  i»Seri«ted  in  thii  local  gas  situation 
S^self-^^^ersTrSer  profitable  field  for  inve«ment. 
Sd  ^veral  members  of  the  old  companies  have  «me  to 
«M  wranflTr  to  ask  me  to  help  them  combme.     Ci  nis  was 

thought  you  had  of  wmnmg  along  tbe  Imea  jmwmmm 

'"^cSCrwood  smfled.   "I  hardly  care  to  discuss  that,'' 

mtdom  than  I  do  at  present.   Do  I  "^demand  that 
^ThSTreaUy  been  appealed  to  by.  rtockholde»^f;the 
old  companies  to  con»  m  and  mmp  Bmpm  mm^vr- 
"  Exactly,"  said  Schryhart.  n^^»» 
"  And  yii  think  you  can  get  them  to  combme  t  un  wnat 

^'''•C*'  I  should  say  it  would  be  a  simple  matter  »  pve 
each  of  th^Z>  or  three  shar^  of  a  new  company  fer«e 
in  each  of  the  ojiW.  ondd 
have  one  set  of  mtu,  l*0P  mwmwm,  ana 

'°rii  in  an  easy,  patronizing  way,  as  Aoug^^ 

perwood  had  not  really  thought  it  all  out  V*^"^^"^^ 
amazed  the  latter  no  little  to  see  his  own  scheme  patfom- 
?n^Wbrou^ht  tock  to  him.  and  that,  too,  by  a  very  power- 
fTLn  iSy^  wCthu.  for  h»l  choaan  to  overtook 

humT  M  Omperwood.  cautiously. 
79 


MKMCOrr  ReOUITION  TfST  CHART 

(A^4SI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


THE  TITAN 

"On  the  same  basis  as  the  others,  if  they  are  not  too 
heavily  capitalized.  I  haven't  thought  out  all  the  details. 
Two  or  three  for  one,  according  to  investment.  Of  course, 
the  prejudices  of  dMse  <Ad  cmnpanies  have  to  be  coii> 
sidered. 

Cowperwood  meditated.  Should  or  should  he  not  enter- 
tain this  offer?  Here  was  a  chance  to  realize  quickly  by 
selling  out  to  the  old  companies.  Onljr  Schryhart,  not  him- 
self, would  be  taking  the  big  end  in  this  manipulative  deal. 
Whereas  if  he  waited — even  if  Schryhart  managed  to  com- 
bine the  three  old  companies  into  one — ^he  might  be  able 
to  force  better  terms.  He  was  not  sure.  Finally  he  asked, 
"How  much  stock  of  the  new  company  would  be  left  in  your 
hands — or  in  the  hands  of  the  organizing  group— after  each 
of  die  tAd  and  new  companies  had  been  provided  for  on  this 
basis?" 

"Oh,  possibly  thirty-five  or  forty  per  cent,  of  the  whole," 
replied  Sch^hart,  ingratiatingly.  *The  laborer  is  worthy 
of  his  hire. 

"Quite  so,"  replied  Cowperwood,  smiling,  "but,  seeing 
that  I  am  die  man  ^o  has  been  cutting  the  pole  to  kooek 
this  persimmon  it  seems  to  me  that  a  pretty  eood  diare  of 
that  should  come  to  me;  don't  you  think  sor* 

"Just  what  do  you  mean?" 

"Just  what  I  have  said.  I  personally  have  organized 
the  new  companies  which  have  made  this  proposed  com- 
bination possible.  The  plan  you  propose  is  nothing  more 
than  what  I  have  been  proposing  for  some  time.  The 
officers  and  directors  of  the  old  companies  are  angry  at  me 
merely  because  I  am  supposed  to  have  invaded  the  fields 
that  belong  to  them.  Now,  if  on  account  of  that  they  are 
willing  to  operate  through  you  rather  than  through  me, 
it  seems  to  me  that  I  should  nave  a  mudi  laiger  diare  in  the 
surplus.  My  personal  interest  in  these  new  companies  is 
not  very  large.  I  am  really  more  of  a  fiscal  agent  than 
anything  else."  fThis  was  not  true,  but  CowpMWUod 
preferred  to  have  his  guest  think  so.) 

Schnrhart  smiled.  ^'But,  my  dear  sir,"  he  explained, 
"you  forget  diat  I  wSl  be  supf^ing  neaify  att  die  ca|^ 
to  do  this." 

**Yoo  foiget,"  retorted  Cowperwood,  "that  I  am  not  a 

80 


THE  FRUITS  OF  DARING 

novice.  I  will  guarantee  to  supply  all  the  capital  myself, 
and  give  you  a  good  bonus  for  your  services,  if  you  want 
that.  The  plants  and  franchises  of  the  old  and  new  com- 
panies are  worth  something.  You  must  remember  that 
Chicago  is  growing."  .   ,    «,     t  i 

"I  know  that,"  replied  Schryhart,  evasively,  but  1  also 
know  that  you  have  a  long,  expensive  fight  ahead  of  you. 
As  things  are  now  you  cannot,  of  yourself,  expect  to  bnng 
these  old  companies  to  terms.  They  won't  work  with  you, 
as  I  understand  it.  It  will  require  an  outsider  like  myself 
— tome  one  of  influence,  or  periiaps,  I  had  better  say,  of 
old  standing  in  Chicago,  some  one  who  knows  these  peo- 
ple—to briuK  about  this  combination.  Have  you  any  one, 
do  you  think,  who  can  do  it  better  than  I?"  ^ 

"It  is  not  at  all  impossible  that  I  will  find  WNne  one, 
replied  Cowperwood,  quite  easily. 

haidly  think  ao;  cntainly  not  as  things  are  now.  1  he 
old  companies  are  not  disposed  to  work  through  you,  and 
they  are  through  me.  Don't  you  think  vou  b^er 
accept  my  terms  and  allow  me  to  go  ahead  and  dote  dyf 
matter  up?"  ,  . 

"Not  at  all  on  that  basis,"  replied  G»wpefwood,  quite 
tanp^.  "We  have  invaded  the  enemies'  country  too  far 
and  done  too  much.  Three  for  one  or  four  for  one— what- 
ever terms  are  given  the  stockholders  of  the  old  compamca 
— is  the  best  I  will  do  about  the  new  shares,  and  I  must 
have  one-half  of  whatever  is  left  for  myself.  At  that  I 
will  have  to  divide  with  others.**    (This  was  not  tree 

either.)  .   ,       ,        .    ,     •  i 

"No,"  replied  Schryhart,  evasively  and  opposingly,  shak- 
ing his  squate  head.  "It  can't  be  done.   The  risks  are  too 
rreat.  I  mWrt  alkwywi  <»e-ft«rt*^po«W^ 
yet." 

"One-half  or  nothiiUb"  said  Cowpemood,  definitely. 
Schryhart  got  up.  *nrbat'i  the  best  yott  wiU  do»  is  itr 
he  inquired. 
"The  very  best." 

"I'm  afraid  then,"  he  said,  "we  can  t  come  to  terms. 
I'm  sorry.  You  may  find  this  a  rather  long  and  ex- 
pendlve  fight."  .... 

"I  have  fully  aatictpated  that,"  replied  the  financier. 


CHAPTER  XII 

A  MBW  ftlTAIim 

COWPERWOOD,  who  had  rebuiFed  Schryhart  so  cour- 
teously but  firmly,  was  to  ieam  that  he  who  takes  the 
sword  may  well  perish  by  the  sword.  His  own  watchful 
attorney,  on  guard  at  the  state  capttol,  where  certificates 
of  incorporation  were  issued  in  the  city  a:  d  village  councils, 
in  the  courts  and  so  forth,  was  not  long  in  learning  that  a 
counter-movement  of  significance  was  under  way.  Old 
-  General  Van  Sickle  was  the  first  to  report  that  something 
was  in  the  wind  in  connection  with  the  North  Side  com- 
pany. He  came  in  late  one  afternoon,  his  dusty  greatcoat 
thrown  loosely  about  his  shoulders,  his  small,  soft  hat  low 
over  his  shaggy  eyes,  and  in  response  to  Cowperwood's 
"Evening  Genera^  wliat  can  I  do  for  yoaf*  seated 
portentously. 

"I  think  you'll  have  to  prepare  for  real  rough  weather 
in  the  future.  Captain,"  he  remarked,  addressing  the  finan- 
cier with  a  courtesy  title  dut  he  had  fallm  in  hal^ 

of  using. 

"What's  the  trouble  now?**  asked  Cowperwood. 

"No  real  trouble  as  yet,  but  there  may  be.  Some  one — 
I  don't  know  who — is  getting  these  three  old  companies 
together  in  one.  There's  a  certificate  of  incorporation 
been  applied  for  at  Springfield  for  the  United  Gas  and 
Fuel  Company  of  Chicago,  and  there  are  some  directors' 
meetings  now  goin^  on  at  the  Douglas  Trust  Company.  I 
giot  this  from  Duntway,  who  seems  to  have  frioids  some- 
yfhat  that  know." 

Cowperwood  put  the  ends  of  his  fingers  together  in  his 
customary  way  and  began  to  tap  them  li^tly  and  rhyth- 
mically. 

"L^  me  see— the  Douglas  Trust  Conptay.  Mr.Simmt 

8s 


A  NEW  RETAINER 

is  president  of  that.  He  isn't  shrewd  enough  to  oiganne 
a  thing  of  that  kind.   Who  are  the  incorporators?" 

The  General  produced  a  list  of  four  aaniet,  none  of  them 
officers  or  directors  of  the  old  companies. 

"Dummies,  eveiy  one,"  said  Cowperwood,  succinctly. 
"I  think  I  know"  he  said,  after  a  few  moments'  reflectioB, 
"who  is  behind  it,  General;  but  don't  let  that  worry  you. 
They  can't  harm  us  if  they  do  unite.  They're  bound  to  sell 
out  to  us  or  buy  us  out  eventually." 

Still  it  irritated  him  to  think  that  Schryhait  had  suc- 
ceeded in  persuading  the  old  companies  to  combine  on  any 
bsMis;  Iw  nad  meant  to  have  Addison  go  shortly,  posing 
as  an  outside  party,  and  propose  this  very  thine.  ^  Schry- 
hart,  he  was  sure,  had  acted  swiftly  following  thdr  inter- 
view.   He  hurried  to  Addison's  office  in  the  Lake  National. 

"Have  you  heard  the  news?"  exclaimed  that  individual, 
the  moment  Com>erwood  appeared.  "They're  planning 
to  combine.  It's  Schiyhart.  1  was  afraid  of  that.  Simms 
of  the  E)ouglas  Trust  is  going  to  act  as  the  fiscal  agent.  I 
had  the  informattcm  not  ten  minutes  ago.** 

"So  did  I,"  replied  G>wperwood,  calmly.  "We  should 
have  acted  a  little  sooner.  Still,  it  isn't  our  fault  exactly. 
Do  you  know  the  terms  of  agreement  f* 

"They're  going  to  pool  their  stock  on  a  basis  of  three  to 
one,  widi  aTOut  thirty  per  cent,  of  the  holding  company 
yk  for  Schryhart  to  mU  or  keep,  as  he  wants  to.  Hie 
guarantees  the  interest.  We  dM  that  ht  Um— drove  the 
game  right  into  his  has." 

"Nevertheless,"  refuted  Cowpenrood,  "he  still  has  us 
to  deal  with.  I  propose  now  that  we  go  into  the  ci^ 
council  and  ask  for  a  blanket  franchise.  It  can  be  had. 
If  we  should  get  it,  it  wBl  bring  them  to  their  knees.  We 
will  really  be  m  a  better  position  than  they  are  with  these 
smaller  companies  as  feeders.  We  can  unite  with  ourselves." 

"That  wul  take  considerable  money,  won't  it?** 

"Not  so  much.  We  may  never  need  to  lay  a  pipe  or 
build  a  plant.  They  will  offer  to  sell  out,  buy,  or  combine 
before  that.  We  can  fix  die  terms.  Leave  it  to  me.  You 
don't  happen  to  know  by  any  chance  this  Mr.  McKenty, 
who  has  so  much  say  in  local  affairs  here  —  JdmJ. 


THE  TITAN 


Cowperwood  was  referring  to  a  man  who  was  at  once 
gambler,  rumored  owner  or  controller  of  a  series  of  houses 
of  prostitution,  rumored  maker  of  mayors  and  aldermen, 
rumored  finiuicial  backer  of  many  saloons  and  contracting 
c-mpanies — ^in  short,  the  patron  saint  of  the  political  and 
iocial  underworld  of  Chicago,  and  who  was  naturally  to  be 
reckoned  with  in  matters  which  related  to  the  city  and 
state  legislative  programme. 

utI-^m^"'*'"       Addi»on;  "but  I  can  get  you  a  letter. 

Why? 

"Don't  trouble  to  ask  me  that  now.  Get  me  as  strong 
am  introduction  as  you  can." 

"  I'll  have  one  for  you  to-day  some  time,"  replied  Addison, 
effiaently.   "I'll  send  it  over  to  you.** 

Cowperwood  went  out  while  Addison  speculated  as  to 
this  newest  move.  Trust  Cowperwood  to  dig  a  pit  into 
which  the  enemy  miriit  fall.  He  marveled  some&nes  at 
the  man's  resourcefulness.  He  never  quarreled  with  die 
directness  and  incisiveness  of  Cowperwood  s  action. 

man,  McKenty,  whom  Cowperwood  had  in  mind 
m  this  rather  disturbing  hour,  was  as  interesting  and 
forceful  an  individual  as  one  would  care  to  meet  anywhere, 
a  typical  figure  of  Chicago  and  the  Wett  at  the  time.  He 
was  a  pleasant,  smiling,  bland,  affable  person,  not  unlike 
Cowperwood  in  magnetism  and  subtlety,  but  different  by  a 
degree  of  animal  coarseness  (not  visible  on  the  surface) 
which  Cowperwood  would  scarcely  have  understood,  and  in 
a  kind  of  temperamental  pull  drawing  to  him  that  vast 
pathetic  life  of  the  underworid  in  which  his  soul  found  its 
solution.  There  is  a  kind  of  nature,  not  artis..c,  not 
spiritual,  in  no  w  -y  emotional,  nor  yet  unduly  philosophical, 
that  is  nevertheless  a  sphered  content  of  Ufe;  not  crystal- 
line, perhaps,  and  yet  not  utterlv  dark — an  agate  tempera- 
ment, cloudy  and  strange.  As  a  three-year-old  child 
McKenty  had  been  brought  from  Ireland  by  his  emigrant 
parents  during  a  period  of  famine.  He  had  been  raised 
«i  the  fUT  South  Side  in  a  shanty  whidi  stood  near  a  maze  of 
railroao-tracks,  and  as  a  naked  baby  he  had  crawled  on  its 
earthen  floor.  His  father  had  been  promoted  to  a  section 
lK»t  after  working  for  years  as  a  day'<4aborar  on  the  ad- 
jommg  railroad,  and  John,  junior,  one  of  e%lit  other 


A  NEW  RETAINER 


childm,  had  been  tent  out  eariy  to  do  many  things — to 

be  an  errand-boy  in  a  store,  a  messeneer-boy  for  a  tele- 
graph company,  an  emergency  sweep  about  a  saloon,  and 
finally  a  bartender.  That  last  was  his  true  beginning, 
for  he  was  discovered  by  a  keen-minded  politician  and 
encouraged  to  run  for  the  state  legislature  and  to  study 
law.  Even  as  a  stripling  what  things  had  he  not  learned — 
robbery,  ballot-box  stuffing,  the  sale  of  votes,  the  api>oint- 
ive  power  of  leaders,  graft,  nepotism,  vice  exploitation — 
all  tne  things  that  eo  to  make  up  (or  did)  the  American 
world  of  pobtics  anafinamcial  and  social  strife.  There  is  a 
strong  assumption  in  the  upper  walks  of  life  that  there  is 
nothing  to  be  learned  at  the  bottom.  If  you  could  have 
looked  into  the  capacious  but  balanced  temperament  <^ 
John  J.  McKenty  you  would  have  seen  a  strance  wisdoL  i 
there  and  stranger  memories — ^whole  worlds  of  Drutalitks* 
tendernesses,  errors,  immoralities  suffered,  endured,  even 
rejoiced  in--the  hardy,  eager  life  of  the  anunal  tlmt  has 
nothing  but  its  perceptions,  insrincts,  appetites  to  guide 
it.  Yet  the  man  had  the  air  and  the  poise  of  a  gentle- 
man. 

To-day,  at  forty-eight,  McKenty  was  an  exceedingly 
important  personage.  His  roomy  house  on  the  West  Side,  at 
Harrison  Street  and  Ashland  Av«iiie,  was  visited  at  sundry 
times  by  financiers,  business  men,  office-holders,  priests, 
saloon-keepers — in  short,  the  whole  ranee  and  gamut  of 
active,  subtle,  political  Ufe.  Fnmi  McKenty  thev  could 
obtain  that  counsel,  wisdom,  surety,  solution  which  all  of 
them  on  occasion  were  anxious  to  have,  and  which  in  one  deft 
way  and  another — often  by  no  more  than  gratitude  and  an 
acknowledgment  of  his  leadership — they  were  willing  to 
pay  for.  To  police  captains  and  officers  whose  places  he 
occasionally  saved,  when  they  should  justly  have  oeen  dis- 
char^;  to  mothers  whose  erring  boys  or  girls  he  took  out 
of  prison  and  sent  home  <^ain;  to  keepers  of  bawdy  houses 
whom  he  protected  from  a  too  harsh  invasion  of  the  graft- 
ing propensities  :he  local  police;  to  politicians  and 
saloon-keepers        wsre  in  danger  of  being  destroyed  by 

Eublic  upheavals  01'  one  kind  and  another,  he  seemed,  in 
ours  of  stress,  when  his  smooth,  genial,  almost  artistic 
hat  beamed  «i  diem,  fike  a  heavea-aoit  sm    light,  a  kind 

8$ 


THE  TITAN 

of  Western  god,  all-powerful,  aU-merdful,  perfect.  On  tlie 
other  hand,  there  were  ingrates,  uncompromising  or  phara- 
saical  religionists  and  reformers,  plotting,  scheming  rivals, 
who  found  him  deadly  to  contend  widi.  There  were  many 
henchmen — runners  from  an  almost  imperial  throne — to  do 
his  bidding.  He  was  simple  in  dress  and  taste,  married 
and  (apparently)  very  happy,  a  professing  though  virtually 
non-practising  Catholic,  a  suave»  genial  Buddha-like  \ 
powerful  and  enigmatic. 

When  Cowperwood  and  McKenty  first  met,  it  was  4. 
sprins  evening  at  the  latter's  home.  The  windows  the 
largeliouse  were  pleasantly  open,  though  screened,  and  the 
curtains  were  blowing  faintly  in  a  light  air.  Along  with  a 
sense  of  the  new  green  life  everywhere  came  a  breath  of 
stock-yards. 

On  the  presentation  of  Addison's  letter  and  of  another,  se- 
cured through  Van  Sickle  from  a  well-known  political  judge, 
Cowperwood  had  been  invited  to  call.  On  his  arrival  ne 
was  offered  a  drink,  a  cigar,  introduced  to  Mrs.  McKenty — 
who,  lacking  an  organized  social  life  of  any  kind,  was  always 
l^eaaed  to  meet  tmse  celebrities  the  upper  world,  if  amy 
for  a  moment — and  shown  eventually  mto  the  library. 
Mrs.  McKenty,  as  he  might  have  observed  if  he  had  had 
the  eye  for  it,  was  plump  and  fifty,  a  sort  of  superannuated 
Aileen,  but  still  showing  traces  of  a  former  hardy  beauty, 
and  concealing  pretty  well  the  eviJences  that  she  had  once 
been  a  prostitute.  It  so  happened  that  on  this  particular 
evening  McKenty  was  in  a  most  genial  frame  of  mind. 
There  were  no  immediate  political  troubles  bothering  him 
just  now.  It  was  early  in  May.  Outside  the  trees  were 
budding,  the  sparrows  and  robins  were  voicing  their  several 
moods.  A  delicious  haze  was  in  the  air,  and  some  early 
mosquitoes  were  reconnoitering  the  screens  which  pro- 
t^ted  the  windows  and  doors.  Cowperwood,  in  spite  of 
his  various  troubles,  was  in  a  complacent  state  of  mind 
himself.  He  liked  life — even  its  very  difficult  complica« 
tions-y-perhaps  its  complications  best  of  all.  Nature  was 
beautiful,  tender  at  times,  but  difficulties,  plans,  plots, 
schemes  to  unravel  and  make  smoodi— dme  things  were 
what  made  existence  worth  while. 

"Wdl  now,  Mr.  Cowperwood,"  McKenty  began,  iHien 

86 


A  NEW  RETAINER 

they  finally  entered  the  cool,  pleasant  library,  "what  can 
I  do  for  youf* 

"Well,  Mr.  McKenty,**  said  G>wperwood,  choosing  his 
words  and  bringing  the  finest  resources  of  his  temperament 
into  play,  "it  isn't  so  much,  and  yet  it  is.  I  want  a  fran- 
chise from  the  Chicago  city  council,  and  I  want  you  to  help 
me  get  it  if  you  will.  I  know  you  may  say  to  me  why  not 
go  to  the  oouncilmen  direct.  1  would  do  that,  except  that 
there  are  certain  other  elements — ^individuals — who  mieht 
come  to  you.  It  won't  offend  you,  I  know,  when  I  say  that 
I  have  always  understood  thatyou  are  a  ttxt  of  ckazing* 
house  for  political  troubles  in  Chicaeo." 

Mr.  McKenty  smiled.   "That's  flattering,"  he  replied, 

I  am  rather  new  myself  to  Chicago,'*  went  on 
'\)wperwood,  softly.  "I  have  been  here  only  a  year  or 
wo.  I  come  from  Philadelphia.  I  have  been  interested 
as  a  fiscal  agent  and  an  investor  in  Mveral  gas  companies 
that  have  been  organized  in  Lake  View,  Hyde  Park,  and 
elsewhere  outside  the  city  limits,  as  you  may  possibly  have 
seen  by  the  papers  latew.  I  am  not  their  owner,  in  the 
sense  tnat  I  nave  provi<Md  all  or  even  a  good  part  of  the 
money  invested  in  them.  I  am  not  even  their  manager, 
except  in  a  very  general  way.  I  might  better  be  called 
their  promoter  and  ^r«Y;an;  but  I  am  tbat  for  odier 
people  and  mysel;. 
Mr.  McKenty  n    .  . 

"Now,  Mr.  McKenv^ ,  it  ^^as  not  very  lone  after  I  started 
out  to  get  franchises  to  do  business  in  Lake  view  and  Hyde 
Park  before  I  found  myself  confronted  by  the  interests 
whidi  omtrd  the  three  oW  city  gas  companies.  They  were 
very  much  opposed  to  our  entering  the  held  in  Cook  County 
anywhere,  as  you  may  imagine,  although  we  were  not  really 
crowding  in  on  their  field.  Since  then  they  have  fought  me 
with  lawsuits,  injiincticma,  and  diaiges  of  bribeiy  and 
conspiracy." 

"I  know,"  put  in  Mr.  McKenty.  "I  have  heard  aome- 

thine  of  it." 

"Quite  so,"  replied  Cowperwood.  "Because  of  their 
<^poiitk»  I  made  them  an  offer  to  combine  these  three 
compamea  and  the  three  nar  <»«•  into  one,  take  out  a  new 

87 


4^ 
It' 


to 


1?  r 


=  II 

;  ft. 
1 

r 


,,  ,1 
1!  >!  • 


i 


THE  TITAN 

charter,  and  give  the  dtv  a  uniform  ga«  service.  They 
would  not  do  that — largely  because  I  was  an  outsider.  I 
think.  Since  then  another  person,  Mr.  Schryhart  — 
McKenty  nodded — "who  has  never  had  anything  to  do 
with  the  gas  business  here,  has  stepped  in  and  oifered  to 
combine  them.  His  plan  is  to  do  exactly  ^at  I  wanted 
to  do;  only  his  further  proposition  is,  once  he  has  the  three 
old  companies  united,  to  invade  this  new  ^zs  field  of  ours 
and  hold  us  up,  or  force  us  to  sell  by  obtaining  rival  fran- 
chises in  these  outlyine  places.  There  is  talk  of  combinine 
these  suburbs  with  Chicago,  as  vou  know,  which  would 
alkm  diese  diree  down-town  franchises  to  become  mutually 
operative  with  our  own.  This  makes  it  essential  for  us 
to  do  one  of  several  things,  as  you  may  see — either  to  sell 
out  on  the  best  terms  we  can  now,  or  to  continue  die  fight 
at  a  rather  heavy  expense  without  making  any  att^  mpt  to 
strike  back,  or  to  get  into  the  city  council  and  ask  for  a 
franchise  to  do  business  in  the  down-town  section — a  gen- 
eral blanket  franchise  to  sell  gas  in  Chicago  alongside  of 
the  old  companies — ^with  the  sole  intention  of  protectins 
ourselves,  as  one  ci  my  officers  is  Ibnd  of  sayi^** 
Cowperwood,  humorously. 

McKenty  smiled  again.  "I  see,"  he  said.  "Isn't  that 
a  rather  laige  order,  though,  Mr.  Cowperwood,  seeking  a 
new  franchise?  Do  you  suppose  the  general  public  would 
agree  that  the  city  needs  an  extra  gas  company?  It's  true 
the  old  companies  haven't  been  any  too  generous.  My  own 
gas  isn't  of  the  best."  He  smiled  vaguely,  prepaml  to  lis- 
ten further. 

"Now,  Mr.  McKenty,  I  know  that  you  are  a  practical 
man,"  went  on  Cowperwood,  ignoring  this  interruption, 
"and  so  am  I.  I  am  not  coming  to  you  widi  any  vague 
story  concerning  my  troubles  and  expecting  you  to  be  in- 
terested as  a  matter  of  sympathy.  I  realize  that  to  go  into 
the  city  council  of  Chicago  widi  a  le^mate  proposititm  it 
one  thing.  To  get  it  passed  and  approved  by  the  city 
authorities  is  another.  I  need  advice  and  assistance,  and 
I  am  not  begging  it.  If  I  could  get  a  general  franchise, 
such  as  I  have  described,  it  would  be  worth  a  very  great 
deal  of  money  to  me.  It  would  help  me  to  close  up  and 
ftaHie  on  mse  new  companiet  vimA  are  entady  tomkl 

88 


A  NEW  RETAINER 


and  needed.  It  would  help  me  to  prevent  the  old  com- 
panies from  eating  me  up.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  must  have 
•uch  a  franchise  to  protect  my  interests  and  ghw  me  a 
running  fighting  chance.  Now,  I  know  that  none  of  us  are 
in  politics  or  finance  for  our  health.  If  I  could  get  such  a 
franchise  it  would  be  worth  from  one-fourth  to  onc-hdf  of 
all  I  personally  would  make  out  of  it,  providing  mv  plan 
of  combining  these  new  companies  with  the  old  ones 
ahould  go  through — say,  from  three  to  four  hundred 
thousand  dollars.  (Here  again  Cowperwood  was  not  quite 
frank,  but  safe.)  "It  is  needless  to  sav  to  you  that  I  can 
command  ample  capital.  This  franchise  would  do  that. 
Briefly,  I  want  to  know  if  you  won't  give  me  your 
political  support  in  this  matter  and  join  in  widi  me 
on  the  basis  that  I  propose?  I  will  make  it  perfectjv 
clear  to  you  beforehand  who  my  associates  are.  I  will 
put  all  die  data  and  details  on  the  table  before  you 
so  that  you  can  see  for  yourself  how  things  are.  If  you 
should  find  at  any  time  that  I  have  misrepresented  any- 
thing you  are  at  rail  liberty,  ci  course,  to  wididraw.  As  I 
said  before,"  he  concluded,  "I  am  not  a  beggar.  I  am  not 
coming  here  to  conceal  any  facts  or  to  hide  anything  which 
might  deceive  you  as  to  the  wvudi  oi  all  dits  to  us.  I  want 
you  to  know  the  facts.  I  want  you  to  give  me  your  aid 
on  such  terms  a.i  you  think  are  fair  and  equitable.  Really 
die  cnly  trouble  with  me  in  this  tttuadon  is  that  I  am  not 
a  silk  stocking.  If  I  were  this  gas  war  would  have  been 
adjusted  long  ago.  These  gentlemen  who  are  so  willing 
to  Korganne  diroi^  Mr.  Schryhart  are  largely  opi>osed 
to  me  because  I  am — comparatively — a  stranger  m  Oiicago 
and  not  in  their  set.  If  I  were" — he  moved  his  haid 
slightly — ^"I  dioa*t  suppose  I  would  be  here  this  evening 
askins  for  your  favor,  although  that  does  not  say  that  I 
am  not  glad  to  be  here,  or  that  I  would  not  be  glao  to  work 
with  you  in  any  way  that  I  might.  Circumstances  simply 
have  not  thrown  me  across  your  path  befwe.** 

As  he  talked  his  eye  fixed  McKntty  steadily,  almost 
innocently;  and  the  latter,  follows^  him  clearly,  felt  all  the 
^ile  that  he  was  listening  to  a  strange,  able,  dark,  and 
very  focctliil  man.  Time  waa  bo  beating  about  the  bush 
here,  no  iqwmiahwcM  of  tfbk,  udytt  thete  was  mbdeqr 

»9 


THE  TITAN 


--the  kind  McKenty  Uked.  While  he  was  amused  by 
Cowpn#ood'i  catttaf  reference  to  die  silk  stockings  who 
were  keeping  him  out,  it  appealed  to  him.  He  caught  the 
point  of  view  as  well  as  the  intention  of  it.  Cowperwood 
represented  a  new  and  rather  pleasing  type  of  financier  to 
him.  Evidently,  he  was  traveling  in  able  company  if  one 
could  believe  the  men  who  had  introduced  him  so  warmly. 
McKenty,  as  Cowperwood  was  well  aware,  had  personally 
no  interest  in  the  old  companies  and  also — though  this  he 
did  not  say— no  particular  sympathy  with  them.  They 
were  just  remote  financial  corporations  to  him,  payiiw  po- 
litical tribute  on  demand,  expecting  political  favors  m  re- 
turn. Every  few  weeks  now  they  were  in  council,  asking 
for  one  gas-main  franchise  after  another  (special  privileges 
in  certain  streets),  asking  for  better  (more  profitable)  light- 
contracts,  asking  for  dock  privileges  in  die  river,  a  lower 
tax  rate,  and  so  forth  and  so  on.  McKenty  did  not  pay 
much  attention  to  these  things  personallv.  He  had  a  sub- 
ordinate in  council,  a  very  powerfid  henchman  by  the  name 
of  Patrick  Dowling,  a  meaty,  vigorous  Irishman  and  a  true 
watch-dog  of  graft  for  the  machine,  who  worked  with  the 
mayor,  the  city  treasurer,  the  city  tax  receiver— in  fact, 
all  the  ofiicers  of  the  current  administration — and  saw  that 
such  minor  matters  were  properly  eoualized.  Mr.  McKenty 
had  only  met  two  or  three  of  the  officers  of  the  South  Side 
Gas  Company,  and  that  quite  casually.  He  did  not  like 
them  very  well.  The  truth  was  that  the  old  companies 
were  officered  bv  men  who  OMisidecwl  pdiddans  of  the 
McKenty  and  Dowling  stripe  as  very  evil  men;  if  they 
paid  them  and  did  other  such  wicked  things  it  was  because 
they  were  forced  to  do  so. 

"  WeU,"  McKenty  replied,  finee  ring  his  thin  gold  watch- 
chain  m  a  thoughtful  manner,  "that's  an  interesting  scheme 
you  have.  Of  course  the  old  companies  wouldn't  like  your 
asking  for  a  rival  franchise,  but  once  you  had  it  they 
couldn  t  object  very  well,  could  theyr  He  smiled.  Mr. 
McKenty  spoke  with  no  suggestion  of  a  brogue.  "From 
one  point  of  view  it  night  be  looked  upon  as  bad  business, 
but  not  entirely.  They  would  be  sure  to  make  a  great 
cry,  though  they  haven't  been  any  too  kind  to  the  public 
themselves.    But  if  you  offered  to  combine  with  them  I 

90 


A  NEW  RETAINER 

see  no  objection.    It's  certain  to  be  as  good  for  them  in 
the  long  run  as  it  is  for  you.   This  merely  pcnnits  you  to 
make  a  better  bargain." 
"Exactly,"  said  Cowperwood. 

"And  you  have  the  means,  vou  tell  me,  to  lay  mains  in 
every  part  of  the  city,  and  fignt  with  than  few  Dunness  if 

they  won't  eive  in?' 

"I  have  the  means,"  said  Cowperwood,  "or  if  I  haven't 
I  can  eet  them." 

Mr.  McKenty  looked  at  Mr.  Cowperwood  very  solemnly. 
There  was  a  kind  of  mutual  sympathy,  understanding,  and 
admiration  between  the  two  men,  but  it  was  idU  faiavily 
veiled  by  <ielf-interest.  To  Mr.  McKenty  Cot-'perwood  was 
interestmg  because  he  was  one  of  the  few  busmess  men  he 
had  met  who  were  not  ponderous,  pharasaical*  even  hypo> 
critical  when  they  were  dealing  with  him. 

"Well,  I'll  tel'  you  what  I'll  do,  Mr.  Cowperwood,"  he 
said,  finally.  "I  ll  take  it  all  under  consideration.  Let 
me  think  it  over  until  Monday,  anyhow.  There  is  nacre  of 
an  excuse  now  for  the  introduction  of  a  general  gas  ordinance 
than  there  would  be  a  little  later — I  can  see  that.  Why 
don'tyou  draw  up  your  proposed  franchise  and  let  me  see 
it?  liien  we  might  find  out  what  some  of  the  odier  gentle- 
men of  the  city  council  think." 

Cowperwood  almost  smiled  at  the  word  "gentlemen." 

"I  have  already  done  that,**  he  said.   "Here  it  is." 

McKenty  took  it,  surprised  and  yet  pleased  at  this  evi- 
dence of  business  proficiency.    He  liked  a  strong  manipu- 
lator <^  this  kind — the  more  since  ht  was  not  one  hi  ■> 
and  most  of  those  that  he  did  know  were  thin-Uow.!  jd 
and  squeamish. 

"Let  me  take  this,"  he  said.  "I'll  see  you  next  Monday 
again  if  you  wish.    Come  Monday." 

Cowperwood  got  up.  "I  thought  I'd  come  and  talk  to 
you  direct,  Mr.  McKenty,"  he  said,  "and  now  I'm  glad 
that  I  did.  You  will  find,  if  you  will  take  the  trouble  to 
jook  into  this  matter,  that  it  is  just  as  I  represent  it.  There 
is  a  very  great  deal  of  money  here  in  <»e  way  and  anodier» 
though  it  will  take  some  little  time  to  work  it  out." 

Mr.  McKenty  saw  the  point.  "Yes,"  he  said,  sweetly, 
**to  be  sure." 

9« 


THE  TITAN 


They  looked  into  each  other's  eyes  as  they  shook  hands. 

"I'm  not  sure  but  you  haven't  nit  upon  a  very  good  idea 
here,"  concluded  McKenty,  sympathetically.  A  very 
good  idea,  indeed.  Come  and  see  me  agaiti  next  Monday, 
or  about  that  time,  and  I'll  let  you  know  what  I  think. 
Come  any  time  you  have  anything  else  you  want  of  me. 
I'll  always  be  glad  to  see  you.  It's  a  fine  night,  isn't  it?" 
he  added,  lookmg  out  at  they  iwared  die  door.  "A  nice 
moon  that!"  he  added.  A  nckk  moon  was  in  the  sky. 
"Goodnight." 


CHAPTER  Xin 


THE  DIB  18  CAST 

THE  significance  of  this  visit  was  not  long  in  manifest- 
ing itself.  At  the  top,  in  large  affairs,  life  goes  off 
into  almost  inexplicable  tangles  of  personalities.  Mr. 
McKenty,  now  that  the  matter  had  bc«n  called  to  his  at- 
tendon,  was  interetted  to  learn  about  diu  ga*  situation 
from  all  sides — whether  it  might  not  be  more  profitable  to 
deal  y/rkh  the  Schryhart  end  of  the  argument,  and^  so  on. 
But  his  eventual  conclusion  wat  that  Cowperwood's  plan, 
as  he  had  outlined  it,  was  the  most  feasible  for  political 
purposes,  laigdy  because  the  Schryhart  faction,  not  being 
m  a  posidmi  where  th^  needed  to  ask  dw  city  cMUidl  for 
anything  at  present,  were  so  obtuse  as  to  forget  to  make 
overtures  of  any  kind  to  the  bucaneering  forces  at  the 
G^HalL 

When  Cowperwood  next  came  to  McKcnty's  house  the 
latter  was  in  a  receptive  frame  of  mind.  "Well,"  he  said, 
after  a  few  genial  prelimBiafy  rnnarks,  "I've  been  learning 
what's  going  on.  Your  proposition  is  fair  enough.^  Organ- 
ize your  company,  and  arrange  your  plan  conditimially. 
Then  introduce  your  ordinance,  and  we  11  see  what  can  be 
done."  They  went  into  a  long,  intimate  discussicMi  as  to 
how  the  foruicoming  stock  should  be  divided,  how  it  was 
to  be  held  in  escrow  by  a  favorite  bank  of  Mr.  McKenty's 
until  the  terms  of  the  agreement  under  the  eventual  affilia- 
tion with  the  old  companies  or  die  new  union  company 
should  be  fulfilled,  and  details  of  that  sort.  It  was  rather 
a  complicated  arrangement,  not  as  satisfactory  to  Cowper- 
wood as  it  might  have  been,  but  satisfactory  in  that  it  per- 
mitted him  to  win.  It  required  the  undivided  services 
of  General  Van  Sickle,  Henry  De  Soto  Sippens,  Kent  Bai^ 

9S 


THE  TITAN 


rows  McKibben,  and  Alderman  Dowling  for  some  little 
time.    But  finally  all  was  in  readiness  for  the  coup. 

On  a  certain  Monday  night,  therefore,  following  the 
Thursday  on  which,  according  to  the  rules  of  the  city 
council,  an  ordinance  of  this  character  would  have  to  be 
introduced,  the  plan,  after  being  publicly  broached  but  this 
veiy  little  while,  was  quickly  considered  by  the  city  council 
and  passed.  There  had  been  really  no  time  for  public 
discussion.  This  was  just  the  thing,  of  course,  that  Cow- 
perwood  and  McKenty  were  trying  to  avoid.  On  the  day 
following  the  particular  Thursday  on  which  the  ordinance 
had  been  broached  in  council  as  certain  to  be  brought  up 
for  passage,  Schryhart,  through  hr  lawyers  and  die  officers 
of  tne  old  individual  gas  companies,  had  run  to  the  news- 

Eapers  and  denounced  the  wnole  thing  as  plain  robbery; 
ut  what  were  they  to  do?  There  was  so  little  time  tor 
agitation.  True  the  newspapers,  obedient  to  this  larger 
financial  influence,  began  to  talk  of  "fair  play  to  the  old 
amip9n:es,"  and  the  uselesmess  of  two  large  rival  com- 
panies in  the  field  when  one  would  serve  as  well.  Still  the 
public,  instructed  or  urged  by  the  McKenty  agents  to  the 
contrary,  were  not  prepared  to  believe  it.  They  had  not 
been  so  well  treated  by  the  old  ccmipaiues  as  to  make  any 
outcry  on  their  behalf. 

Standing  outside  the  city  council  door,  on  the  Monday 
evening  mi&x  the  bill  was  finally  passed,  Mr.  Samuel 
Blackman,  president  of  the  South  Side  Gas  Company,  a 
little,  wispy  man  with  shoe-brush  ix^iiskers,  dedaied  em- 
phatically: 

"This  is  a  scoundrelly  piece  of  business.  If  the  mayor 
signs  that  he  should  be  impeached.  There  is  not  a  vote 
in  there  to-night  that  has  not  been  purchased — not  one. 
This  is  a  fine  element  of  brigandage  to  introduce  into 
Chicago;  why,  people  who  have  wodlud  yean  and  yean  to 
build  up  a  business  are  not  safe!" 

"It's  true,  every  word  of  it,"  complained  Mr.  Jordan 
Jules,  president  of  the  North  Side  company,  a  short,  stout 
man  with  a  head  like  an  egg  lying  lengthwise,  a  mere  fringe 
of  hair,  and  hard,  blue  eyes.  He  was  with  Mr.  Hudson 
Baker,  ta'!  and  ambling,  who  was  president  of  the  West 
Chicago  company.    All  of  these  had  come  to  protest. 


THE  DIE  IS  CAST 

"It's  that  scoundrel  from  Philadelphia.  He's  the  cause  of 
all  our  troubles.  It's  high  time  the  respectable  business 
element  of  Chicago  realized  just  what  sort  of  a  man  they 
have  to  deal  with  in  him.  He  ought  to  be  driven  out  of 
here.  Look  at  his  Philadelphia  record.  They  sent  him 
to  the  penitentiary  down  there,  and  they  oug^t  to  do  it 
here." 

Mr.  Baker,  very  recently  the  guest  of  Schryhart,  and 
his  henchman,  too,  was  also  properly  chagrined.  "The 
man  is  a  charlatan,"  he  protested  to  Blackman.  "He 
doesn't  play  fair.  It  is  puun  that  he  doesn't  bdong  ia 
respectable  society.'* 

Neverthdess,  and  in  spite  of  this,  the  ordinance  was 

Kassed.  It  was  a  bitter  lesson  for  Mr.  Norman  Schryhart, 
Ir.  Norrie  Simms,  and  all  those  who  had  unfortunately 
become  involved.  A  committee  composed  of  all  three  m 
the  old  companies  visited  the  mayor;  but  the  latter,  a  tool 
of  McKenty,  giving  his  future  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
signed  it  jtut  the  same.  Cowpeiwood  had  his  franchise, 
and,  groan  as  they  might,  it  was  now  necessary,  in  the 
language  of  a  later  day,  "to  step  up  and  see  the  captain." 

&Jir^art  felt  personally  that  his  score  with  Cow- 
perwood  was  not  settled.  He  would  meet  him  on  some 
other  eround  later.  The  next  time  he  would  try  to  fight 
fire  with  fire.  But  for  the  present,  direwd  man  Aat  he 
was,  he  was  prepared  to  compromise. 

lliereafter,  dissembling  his  chagrin  as  best  he  could,  he 
kept  on  the  lookout  for  Cowperwood  at  both  of  the  clubs 
of  which  he  was  a  nwmber;  but  Cowperwood  had  avoided 
them  during  this  period  of  excitement,  and  Mahomet  would 
have  to  go  to  the  mountain.  So  one  drowsy  June  afternoon 
Mr.  Schivhart  called  at  Cowperwood's  office.  He  had 
on  a  bright,  new,  steel-gray  suit  and  a  straw  hat.  From 
his  pocket,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  time,  protruded 
a  neat,  blue-bordered  silk  handkerchief,  and  his  feet  were 
immaculate  in  new,  shining  Oxford  ties. 

"I'm  sailing  for  Europe  in  a  few  days,  Mr.  Cowperwood,' 
he  remarked,  genially,  and  I  thought  I'd  drop  round  to  see 
if  you  and  I  could  reach  some  agreemoit  in  regard  to  diis 
gas  situation.   The  officers  of  the  old  companies  naturally 
feel  that  they  do  not  care  to  have  a  rival  m  the  field,  and 

9S 


THE  TITAN 


I'm  sure  that  you  are  not  interested  in  carrying  on  a  useless 
rate  "  ar  that  won't  leave  anybody  any  profit.  I  recall 
that  you  were  willing  to  compromise  on  a  half-and-half 
basis  with  me  before,  and  I  was  wondering  whether  you  were 
•till  of  that  mind." 

"Sit  down,  sit  down,  Mr.  Schryhart,"  remarked  Cowper- 
wood,  cheerfully,  waving  the  new-comer  to  a  chair.  "I'm 
pleased  to  see  you  again.  No,  I'm  no  more  anxious  for 
a  rate  war  than  you  are.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  hope  to 
avoid  it;  but,  as  you  see,  things  have  changed  somewhat 
since  I  saw  you.  The  gentlemen  who  have  organized  and 
invested  their  money  in  this  new  city  gas  company  are  per- 
fectly willing — ^rather  anxious,  in  fact — to  eo  on  and  estab- 
lish a  legitimate  business.   They  feel  all  the  confidence  in 


compromise  might  be  effected  between  the  old  and  dM  new 
companies,  but  not  on  the  basis  on  which  I  was  wil]ui|;  to 
settle  some  time  ago.  A  new  company  has  been  organized 
sincethen,ttockissued,  and  a  great  deal  of  money  expended." 
(This  was  not  true.)  "That  stock  will  have  to  figure  in  any 
new  agreement.  I  thiiik  a  eeneral  u  uon  of  all  the  com- 
panies is  desirable,  but  it  will  have  to  be  on  a  basis  of  me, 
two,  three,  or  four  shares— whatever  is  decided— «t  par 
for  all  stock  involved." 

Mr.  Schryhart  pulled  a  long  face.  "Don't  you  diink 
that's  rather  steep?"  he  said,  solemnly. 

"Not  at  all,  not  at  all!"  replied  Cowperwood.  "You 
know  these  new  expenditures  were  not  undertaken  volun- 
tarily." p:he  irony  of  this  did  not  escape  Mr.  Sdhxyhart, 
but  ne  said  nothii^.) 

"I  admit  all  that,  but  don't  you  think,  since  your  shares 
are  worth  practically  nothing  at  present,  that  ymi  mi^t 
to  be  satisfied  if  they  were  accepted  at  par?" 

"I  can't  see  why,"  replied  Cowperwood.  "Our  future 
prospects  are  splendid.  There  must  be  an  even  adjustment 
here  or  nothing.  What  I  want  to  ksmw  is  how  much 
treasury  stock  you  would  expect  to  have  in  the  safe  for  the 

Eromotion  of  this  new  organization  after  all  the  old  stock- 
olders  have  been  satisfied?" 

"Well,  as  I  thought  before,  from  thirty  to  forty  per  cent, 
of  the  total  issue, '  replied  Schryhart,  still  hoptful  of  a 

96 


the  world  that  they  can  do  this,  and  I 


with  them.  A 


THE  DIE  IS  CAST 

profitable  adjustment.  "lAouMtliiiikitcouMbeiWMtW 

on  that  basis." 

"And  who  gets  that?  . 

"Why,  theorganber/*  said  Sdiiyhait,  evawvely.  Yomw 

•""'^fhrwo^^^^^^^^^^  Hrff  and  half,  ..bi. 

should  think  that  would  be  fail."        .    .  i 
"It  isn't  enough,"  returned  Cowperwood,  masively. 
"Since  I  talked  to  you  last  I  have  been  compelled  to  shoul- 
der obligations  and  make  agreements  which .  did  not  anoo- 
pte  ^then.   The  best  I  can  do  now  »  to  accept  thiee- 

^Sdi^hart  straightened  up  detenninedlv  and  offe^^ 
This  was  outrageous,  he  thought,  imposnWel  lUe  «ltro«- 

cL  never  be  done,  Mr.  Cowperwood,"  he  replied, 
forcefully.  "You  are  trying  to  unload  too  much  worthless 
stock  on  the  company  as  it  fs.  The  old  companies  stockis 
selline  rieht  now,  as  you  know,  for  from  one-fifty  to  two- 

Ter^ofr  stock  is  wUw^  C'' T 'S.^.f  th^e'^S 
two  or  three  for  one  for  that,  and  three-fourths  cf  the  re- 
mainder  in  the  treasury,  I  for  one  want  nothing  to  do  with 
the^'eal.  You  would  14  in  control  of  the  company,  and  it 
wiU  be  water-logged,  at  that.  Talk  about  gettmg  tomeduBg 
fornothingl  The  best  I  would  suggest  to  die  stockholders 
of  the  dTcompanies  would  be  haT and  halt.i>^  J  ?ul 
say  to  you  frankly,  although  you  may  not  beUeve  it,  that 
the  old  companies  will  not  join  m  with  vou  m  any  irtieme 
that  eives  you  control.  They  are  too  much  incensed.  Feeung 
is  running  too  high.  It  will  mean  »i<>n8;«penMj^  fight, 
and  they  will  never  compromise.  Now,  if  you  have  any- 
thing really  reasonable  to  offer  I  would  be  glad  to  hear  it. 
Otherwise  I  am  afraid  these  negimations  are  not  gomg  to 

come  to  anjrthing."  e   ^x.       ♦»..  r-^ 

"Share  and  share  alike,  and  three-fourths  of  the  re- 
mainder," repeated  Cowperwood,  gnmly.  I  <lo  «JJ 
to  control.  If  they  want  to  raise  the  mcmcy  and  buy  me 
out  on  that  basis  I  am  willing  to  sell.  I  want  a  decent 
return  for  investments  I  have  made,  ««iJLl*lf*{S  2 
have  it.  I  cannot  speak  for  the  othei*  bOaaA  but  M 
4  97 


THE  TITAN 


long  at  they  deal  dirougfa  me  that  u  what  they  will  ex- 
pccc. 

Mr.  Schryhart  went  angrily  away.  He  was  exceedingly 
wroth.  This  propondon  as  Cowperwood  now  outlined  it 
was  bucaneering  at  its  best.  He  proposed  for  himself  to 
withdraw  from  the  old  companies  if  necessary,  to  close 
out  his  holdings  and  let' the  old  companies  deal  with  Cowper- 
wood as  best  they  could.  So  long  as  he  had  anything  to  do 
with  it,  Cowperwood  should  never  gain  control  of  the  gas 
situation.  Better  to  take  him  at  his  suggestion,  raise  the 
money  and  buy  him  out,  even  at  an  exorbitant  figure. 
Then  the  old  gas  companies  could  go  along  and  do  business 
in  their  old-fashioned  way  without  being  disturbed.  This 
bucaneerl  This  upstart!  What  a  shrewd,  quick,  force- 
fill  move  he  had  made!  It  irritated  Mr.  Schiyhart 
greatly. 

The  end  of  all  this  was  a  compromise  in  which  Cowper- 
wood atxepted  one-half  of  the  surplus  stock  of  die  new 

general  issue,  and  two  for  one  of  every  share  of  stock  for 
which  his  new  companies  had  been  oi^anized,  at  the  same 
dme  selling  out  to  the  <Ad  companies — clearing  out  com- 
pletely. It  was  a  most  profitable  deal,  and  he  was  enabled 
to  provide  handsomely  not  only  for  Mr.  McKenty  and 


was  a  splendid  coup,  as  McKenty  and  Addison  assured 
him.  Having  now  done  so  much,  he  began  to  turn  his  eyes 
elsewhere  for  other  fields  to  conauer. 

But  this  victory  in  one  direction  brought  with  it 
corresponding  reverses  in  another:  the  social  future  of 
Cowperwood  and  Aileen  was  now  in  great  jeopardy. 
Schnrhart,  who  was  a  force  social'y,  having  met  with  defeat 
at  the  hands  of  Cowperwood,  was  now  bitterly  opposed 
to  him.  Norrie  Simms  naturally  sided  with  his  old  asso- 
ciates. But  the  worst  blow  came  through  Mrs.  Anson 
Vierrill.  Shortly  after  the  housewarming,  and  when  the 
gas  argument  and  the  conspiracy  charges  were  rising  to 
their  heights,  she  had  been  to  New  York  and  had  there 
chanced  to  encounter  an  old  acquaintance  of  hers,  Mrs. 
Martyn  Walker,  of  Philadelphia,  one  of  the  circle  which 
Cowperwood  once  upon  a  time  had  been  vainly  ambidous 
to  enter.  Mrt.  Merrill,  aware  d  the  interest  we  Cowper- 


others  connected  Mrith  him.  It 


98 


THE  DIE  IS  CAST 


woods  had  aroused  in  Mrs.  Simms  and  others,  welcomed  the 
opportunity  to  find  out  scmiething  definite. 

By  the  way,  did  you  ever  chance  to  hear  of  a  Frank 
Algernon  Cowperwood  or  his  wife  in  Ph:'adelphia?"  she 
inquired  of  Mrs.  Walker. 

''Why,  my  dear  Nellie,"  replied  her  friend,  nonplussed 
that  a  woman  so  smart  as  Mrs.  Merrill  should  even  refer 
to  them,  "h-'ve  those  people  established  themselves  in 
Chicago?  His  career  in  Philadelphia  was,  to  say  the  least, 
spectacular.  He  was  connected  with  a  city  treasurer  there 
who  stole  five  hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  they  both  went 
to  the  penitentiary.  That  wasn't  the  woret  of  it  I  He 
became  mtimate  with  some  young  girl— a  Miss  Butler,  die 
sister  of  Owen  Butler,  by  the  way,  who  is  now  such  a  power 
down  there,  and—"  She  merely  lifted  her  eyes.  "While 
he  was  in  the  penitentiary  her  father  died  and  the  family 
broke  up.  I  even  heard  it  rumored  that  the  old  gentleman 
killed  himself."  (She  was  referring  to  Aileen's  father, 
Edward  Malia  Butler.)  **  When  he  came  out  of  the  pemten- 
tiary  Cowperwood  disappeared,  and  I  did  hear  some  o'le 
say  that  he  had  gone  West,  and  divorced  his  wife  and  mar- 
ried again.  His  first  wife  is  still  living  in  FltiladeliMa 
■(miewhere  with  his  two  children." 

Mrs.  Merrill  was  properly  astonished,  but  she  did  not 
show  it.  "Quite  an  interesting  storjr,  isn't  it?"  she  com- 
mented, distantly,  thinking  how  easy  it  would  be  to  adjust 
the  Cowperwood  situation,  and  how  pleased  she  was  that 
she  had  never  shown  any  interest  in  mem.  **Did  you  ever 
see  her — ^his  new  wife  ?" 

"I  think  so,  but  I  forget  where.    I  believe  she  used  to 
ride  and  drive  a  great  deal  in  Philaddf^a." 
"Did  she  have  red  hair?" 
"Oh  yes.    She  was  a  very  striking  blonde." 
"I  fancy  it  must  be  the  same  person.   They  have  been 
in  the  papers  recently  in  Chicago.    I  wanted  to  be  sure." 

Mrs.  Merrill  was  meditating  some  fine  comments  to  be 
made  in  the  future. 

"I  suppose  now  they're  tmng  to  get  into  Chicago 
society?'  Mrs.  Walker  smilea  ocmdetcendinily  and  gob- 
temptuously— as  mu^  at  CUeafo  woamy  at  at  ^ 
Cowperwood*. 

99 


THE  TITAN 

"It's  possible  that  they  mieht  attempt  something  like 
that  in  the  East  and  succeed-— I'm  sure  I  don't  know,** 
replied  Mrs.  Merrill,  caustically,  resenting  the  slur,  "but 
attempting  and  achieving  are  quite  di&rent  things  m 

Chicago." 

The  answer  was  sufficient.  It  ended  the  discussion. 
When  next  Mrs.  Simms  was  rash  enough  to  mention  the 
Cowperwoods,  or,  rather,  the  peculiar  publicity  in  connec- 
tion with  him,  her  future  viewpdnt  was  definitely  fixed  (m 
her. 

*'If  3rou  take  my  advice,"  commented  Mrs.  Merrill, 
finally,  "the  less  you  have  to  do  with  these  friends  of  yours 
the  better.  I  know  all  about  them.  You  might  have 
seen  that  from  the  first.   They  can  never  be  accepted." 

Mn  Merrill  did  not  trouble  to  explain  why,  but  Mrs. 
Simmc  through  her  husband  soon  learned  the  whole  truth, 
and  dio  was  n^eously  indignant  and  even  terrified.  Who 
was  to  blame  for  this  sort  of  thing,  anyhow?  she  thought. 
Who  had  introduced  them?  The  Addisons,  of  course. 
But  the  Addisons  were  socially  unassailable,  if  not  all- 
powerful,  and  so  the  best  had  to  be  made  of  that.  But 
the  Cowperwoods  could  be  dropped  from  the  lists  of  herself 
and  her  friends  instantly,  and  that  was  now  done.  A  sudden 
slump  in  their  social  significance  began  to  manifest  itself, 
though  not  so  swiftly  but  what  for  the  time  being  it  was 
slightly  deceptive. 

The  first  evidence  of  change  wKich  Aileen  obser^'ed 
was  when  the  customary  cards  and  invitations  for  re- 
ceptions and  the  like,  which  had  come  to  them  quite 
freely  of  late,  began  to  decline  sharply  in  number,  and 
when  the  guests  to  her  own  Wednesday  afternoons,  which 
rather  prematurely  she  had  ventured  to  establish,  became 
a  mere  negligible  handful.  At  first  she  could  not  under- 
stand this,  not  being  willing  to  believe  that,  following  so 
soon  upon  her  apparent  triumph  as  a  hostess  in  her  own 
home,  there  could  be  so  marked  a  decline  in  her  local 
importance.  Of  a  possible  seventy-five  or  fifty  who  might 
have  called  or  left  cards,  within  three  weeks  after  the 
housewarming  only  twenty  responded.  A  week  later  it  had 
dedined  to  ten,  and  within  five  weeks,  all  told,  there  was 
scarcely  a  caller.  It  is  true  that  a  very  few     the  untm- 

lOO 


THE  DIE  IS  CAST 

> 

portant— those  who  had  looked  to  her  for  influence  and  the 
self-protecting  Taylor  Lord  and  Kent  McKibben,  who  were 
commercially  obligated  to  Cowperwood— were  still  faithful, 
but  they  were  really  worse  than  nothing.  Aileen  was  be- 
side herself  with  disappointment,  opposition,  ch  agrin,  shame. 
There  are  many  natures,  rhinoceros-hided  and  iron-souled, 
who  can  endure  almost  any  rebuff  in  the  hope  of  ^entual 
victory,  who  are  almost  too  thick-skinned  to  suffer,  but 
hers  was  not  one  of  these.  Already,  in  spite  of  her 
original  darins  in  regard*  to  the  opinion  of  society  and  the 
ri^  of  the  former  Mrs.  Cowperwood,  she  waa  sensitive 
on  the  score  of  her  future  and  what  her  past  might  mean 
to  her.  Really  her  original  actions  could  be  attnbuted  to 
her  youthful  passion  and  the  powerful  wx  magnetism  ot 
Cowperwood.  Under  more  fortunate  circumstances  she 
would  have  married  safely  enough  and  without  the  scandal 
which  followed.  As  it  was  now,  her  soaal  future  here 
needed  to  end  satisfactorily  in  order  to  justify  beiaelf  to 
herself,  and,  she  thought,  to  him.  ,    .    .  „. 

"You  may  put  the  sandwiches  m  the  ice-box,  she  said  to 
Louis,  the  butler,  after  one  of  the  eariiest  of  the  'at  home 
failures,  referring  to  the  undue  supply  of  pmk- and-blue- 
ribboned  titbits  which,  uneaten,  honored  some  fine  beyres 
with  their  presence.  "Send  the  flowers  to  «ie  hospital. 
The  servants  may  drink  the  claret  cup^  and  temonade. 
Keep  some  of  the  cakes  fresh  for  dinner.' 

The  butler  nodded  his  head.  "Yes,  Madame,  he  said. 
Then,  by  way  of  pouring  oil  on  what  appeared  to  him  to  be 
a  troubled  situation,  he  added:  "Eet's  a  rough  day.  1 
suppose  zat  has  somepsing  to  do  weeth  it." 

Aileen  was  aflame  m  a  moment.  She  was  about  to  ex- 
claim: "Mind  your  business!"  but  changed  her  mind. 
"Yes,  I  presume  so,"  was  her  answer,  as  she  ascended  to 
her  room.  If  a  single  poor  "  at  home"  was  to  be  commented 
on  by  servants,  things  were  coming  to  a  pretty  pass,  bhe 
waited  until  the  next  week  to  see  whether  this  was  the 
weather  or  a  real  change  in  public  sentiment.  It  was  worse 
than  the  one  before.  The  singers  she  had  engaged  had  to 
be  dismissed  without  perf"orming  the  service  for  which  they 
had  come.  Kent  McKibben  and  Taylor  Lord,  very  well 
aware  of  Ae  nunon  now  flying  about,  called,  but  m  a  remote 


lOI 


THE  TITAN 

and  troubled  spirit.  Aileen  saw  that,  too.  An  affair  of 
this  kind,  vith  only  thew  two  and  Mrs.  Websttr  Isndt 

and  Mrs.  Henry  Huddlestone  calling,  was  a  sad  indication 
of  something  wrong.  She  had  to  plead  illness  and  excuse 
herself.  The  thira  week,  fearine  a  worse  defeat  than 
before,  Aileen  pretended  to  be  iu.  She  would  see  how 
many  cards  were  left.  There  were  just  three.  That  was 
the  end.  She  realned  that  her  "at  hoam**  were  a 
notable  failure. 

At  the  same  time  Cowperwood  was  not  to  be  spared  his 
diaze  in  the  distnut  and  social  oppofttioD  nHiidi  was  now 
rampant. 

His  first  inkling  of  the  true  state  of  affairs  came  in  con- 
nection with  a  dinner  which,  on  the  strength  (rf*  an  old  in- 
vitation, they  unfortunately  attended  at  a  time  when  Aileen 
was  still  uncertain.  It  had  been  originally  arranged  by  the 
Sunderiand  Sledds,  who  were  not  so  much  soaally,  and 
who  at  the  time  it  occurred  were  as  yet  unaware  of  the 
ugly  gossip  going  about,  or  at  least  of  society's  new  attitude 
toward  the  Cowperwoods.  At  this  time  it  was  understood 
by  nearly  all — the  Simins,  Candas,  Cottons,  and  Kii^ 
bmds-^at  a  great  mistake  had  been  made,  and  that 
the  Cowperwoods  were  by  no  means  admissible. 

To  this  particular  dinner  a  number  of  people,  whom  the 
latter  knew,  had  been  invited.  Uniformly  all,  ifHien  thev 
learned  or  recalled  that  the  Cowperwoods  e  expected, 
sent  eleventh-hour  regrets — "  so  sorry."  Outside  the  Sledds 
there  was  only  one  other  couple — the  Stanislau  Hoeck- 
semas,  for  whom  the  Cowperwoods  did  not  particularly  care. 
It  was  a  dull  evening.  Aileen  complained  of  a  headache, 
and  they  went  home. 

Very  shortlj  afterward,  at  a  reception  given  by  their 
neighbors,  the  Haatstaedts,  to  which  they  had  long  since 
been  invito,  there  was  an  evident  shyness  in  regard  to 
rhem,  quite  new  in  its  aspect,  although  the  hosts  themselves 
were  stiU  friendly  enough.  Previous  to  this,  when  strangers 
of  prominence  had  been  present  at  an  affair  of  this  kind 
tl:»  y  were  elad  to  be  brcaght  over  to  the  Cowperwoods, 
wtio  were  always  conspicuous  because  of  Aileen  s  beauty. 
On  this  day,  for  no  reason  obvious  to  Aileen  or  Cowperwood 
(although  both  suspected),  introductimu  were  aluMMt  uni- 

I02 


THE  DIE  IS  CAST 

formly  refused.  There  were  a  number  who  knew  thorn, 
and  who  talked  casually,  but  the  general  tendency  on  the 
part  of  all  was  to  steer  clear  of  them.  Cowperwood  sensed 
ihe  difficulty  at  once.  "I/Sink  Wd  b«ttr  leave  earl^^^^ 
he  remarked  to  Aileen,  aftei  a  httie  while.  •'Hut  wnt 

^*?hey*r«Sned  to  their  own  home,  and  Cowperwood  to 
avoid  disoution  went  down-town.  He  did  not  c«re  to  fay 
what  he  thought  of  this  as  yet.         ^  .     tt  •  - 

It  was  previous  to  a  reception  given  by  the  Union 
League  that  the  first  real  blow  was  struck  at  him  personally, 
and  that  in  a  roundabout  way.  Addison,  talking  to  him 
at  the  Lake  National  Bank  one  mommg,  had  taid  quite 
confidentially,  and  out  of  a  clear  sky:         .    «  i. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  aomething,  Cowperwood.  You  know 
by  now  something  about  Chicago  soaety.  You  al»  know 
^^leie  I  stand  in  regard  to  some  things  you  told  me  about 
your  past  when  I  first  met  you.  Well,  thtre  s  a  lot  of  taUc 
going  around  about  you  now  in  regard  to  aU  «iat,  and  tbeK 
two  clubs  to  which  you  and  I  belong  are  filled  with  a  lot  of 
two-faced,  double-breasted  hypocrites  who  vebeen  stirred 
up  by  this  talk  of  conspiracy  in  the  papers.  There  are  four 
or  five  stockholders  of  the  old  companies  who  are  members, 
and  they  are  trying  to  drive  you  out.  They  ve  looked  up 
that  story  you  told  me,  and  the/re  talking  about  filing 
chanea  with  the  house  committees  at  both  places.  Wow, 
nothmg  can  come  of  it  in  either  case— they  ve  been  talking 
to  me;  but  when  this  next  reception  cornea  akmg  youTI 
know  what  to  do.  They'll  have  to  extend  you  an  invita- 
tion; but  thqr  won't  mean  it."  (Cowperwood  understood.) 
"This  whole  thing  is  certain  to  blow  over,  in  my  judgment; 
it  will  if  I  have  anything  to  do  with  it;  but  for  the  pretent— 

He  stared  at  Cowperwood  in  a  friendly  way. 

The  lattet  tmiled.  "I  expected  something  hke  this, 
Judah,  to  ten  you  the  truth,"  he  said,  easily.  1  ve  ex- 
pected it  all  along.  You  needn't  worry  about  me.  I  know 
all  about  this.  I've  aeen  which  way  the  wind  u  blowing, 
and  I  know  how  to  trim  my  sails. ' 

Addison  reached  out  and  took  his  hand.  But  dont 
resign,  whatever  you  do,"  he  said,  cautiously.^  That 
woidd  be  a  confession  of  weakness,  and  they  don  t  expect 


THE  TITAN 


to.    I  wouldn't  want  you  to.    Stand  your  ground, 
whole  thing  will  blow  over.   They're  jealous,  I 
think." 

"I  never  intended  to,"  replied  Cowperwood.  "There's 
no  lef^itimate  charge  against  me.  I  know  it  will  all  blow 
over  if  I'm  given  time  enough."  Nevertheless  he  wa« 
chagrined  to  think  that  he  should  be  subjected  to  cuch  a 
conversation  as  this  with  any  one. 

Similarly  in  other  ways  "society" — so  called — WM  quite 
able  to  enforce  its  mandates  and  conclusions. 

The  one  thing  that  Cowperwood  most  resented,  when  he 
learned  of  it  much  later,  was  a  snub  direct  eiven  to  Aileen  at 
the  door  of  the  Norrie  Simmses';  she  called  there  only  to  be 
told  diat  Mrs.  Simms  was  not  at  home,  although  the  car- 
riages of  others  were  in  the  street.  A  few  days  afterward 
Aileen,  much  to  his  regret  and  astonishment  —  for  he  did 
not  then  know  the  cause — actually  became  ill. 

If  it  had  nnt  been  for  Cowperwood's  eventual  financial 
triumph  over  all  opposition — the  complete  routing  of  the 
enemjr — in  the  struggle  for  contn^  in  tne  gas  situation — the 
situation  would  have  been  hard,  indeed.  As  it  was,  Aileen 
suffered  bitterly;  she  felt  that  the  slight  mprincipally  di- 
rected at  her,  and  would  remain  in  force.  In  the  privacy 
of  their  own  home  they  were  compelled  eventually  to  ad- 
mit, the  one  to  the  other,  that  tneir  house  of  cards,  re- 
splmdent  and  forceful  looking  as  it  was,  had  fallen  to  the 
ground.  Personal  confidences  between  people  so  closely 
united  are  really  the  most  tryine  of  all.  Human  souls  are 
constantly  trying  to  find  each  other,  and  rarely  succeedu^. 

"You  know,"  he  finally  said  to  her  once,  when  he  came 
in  rather  unexpectedly  and  found  her  sick  in  bed,  her  eyes 
wet,  and  her  maid  dismissed  for  the  day,  "I  understand 
what  this  is  all  about.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  Aileen,  I 
rather  expected  it.  We  have  been  going  too  fast,  you  and 
I.  We  have  been  pushing  this  matter  too  hard.  Now,  I 
don't  like  to  see  you  taking  it  this  way,  dear.  This  battle 
isn't  lost.  Why,  I  thought  you  had  more  courage  than 
this.  Let  me  tell  you  something  which  you  don't  seem  to 
remember.  Money  will  solve  all  this  sometime.  I'm  win- 
mag  in  this  fight  right  now,  and  Fll  win  in  others.  They 
are  coaaag  to  me.   Why,  dearie,  you  ou^tn't  to  ^spair. 

104 


THE  DIE  IS  CAST 

You're  too  young.  I  never  do.  You'll  win  yet.  We 
can  adjust  this  matter  right  here  m  Chicago,  and  when  we 
do  we  will  pay  up  a  lot  of  scores  at  the  same  time.  We  re 
richT  andwS're  going  to  be  richer.  That  will  settle  it.  Now 
put  o^Ta  good  face  and  look  pleased;  there  are  plenty  of 
fhi^gstol?vrfbrinthi.woridUde«s^^^^^  G^^^^ 
and  dress,  and  we'll  eo  for  a  drive  and  dinner  down-town. 
You  have  me  yet.   Isn't  that  something  r 

"Oh  yes,"  sighed  Aileen,  heavily;  but  she  sank  back 
again.  She  put  her  arms  about  his  ^j^jjj^f^^ 
Mtr  '\  out  of  joy  over  the  consolation  he  offBied  at  over 
tiwi^ss  she  had  eiliiied.  "It  wai  at  much  for  you  aa  for 

"'•I  kSow  ttc  he  soothed;  "but  don't  worry  about  it 
now.  You  will  come  out  all  right.  We  both  wiU.  C^me, 
get  up."  Nevertheless,  he  wai  iornr  to  her  y»eW  w 
weakly.  It  did  not  please  him.  He  retohred  some  day 
to  haVe  a  grim  adjuttment  with  society  on  this  score. 
Meanwhile  Aileen  was  lecoveriM  her  ■£n«£.,S^a8 
ashamed  of  her  weakness  when  the  taw  how  *Mceruiiy 

"Oh?  Frank,"  she  exclaimed,  finally,  "you're  always  so 
wonderful.   You're  such  a  darling."  ,    ,    •  ^l- 

"Never  mind,"  he  said,  cheerfully.  "  If  we  don't  win  thit 
came  here  in  Chicago,  we  will  somewhere.  . ,  .  ,  .  , 
waVthinkingTthe  briUiant  manner  m  which  he  had 
adjusted  his  affairs  with  the  old  eas  companies  and  Mr. 
£chryhart,  and  how  thoroughly  he  would  handle  tome 
other  mattert  when  the  tin»  came. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


UNDERCURRENTS 

IT  was  during  the  year  that  followed  their  social  repudiation, 
and  the  next  and  the  next,  that  Cowperwood  achieved 
a  keen  realization  of  what  it  would  mean  to  spend  the  rest 
of  his  days  in  social  isolation,  or  at  least  confined  in  his 
sources  of  entertainment  to  a  circle  or  element  ifdiich  con- 
stantly reminded  him  of  the  fact  that  he  was  not  identified 
with  the  best,  or,  at  least,  not  the  most  significant,  however 
dull  that  mi^ht  be.  When  he  had  first  attempted  to  intro- 
duce Aileen  into  society  it  was  his  idea  that,  however  tame 
they  might  chance  to  find  it  to  begin  with,  they  themselves, 
once  admitted,  could  make  it  into  something  very  interest- 
ing and  even  brilliant.  Since  the  time  the  Cowperwoods 
had  been  repudiated,  however,  they  had  found  it  necessary, 
if  they  wished  any  social  diversion  at  all,  to  fall  bade  upMi 
such  vari  us  minor  elements  as  they  could  scrape  an  ac- 
quaintance with — passing  actors  and  actresses,  to  whom 
occasitNially  diey  could  give  a  dinner;  artists  and  singers 
whom  they  could  invite  to  the  house  upon  gaining  an  in- 
troduction; and,  of  course,  a  number  of  the  socially  un- 
important, such  as  the  Haatstaedts,  Hoecksemas,  Videras, 
Baileys,  and  others  still  friendly  and  willing  to  come  in  a 
casual  way.  Cowperwood  found  it  interesting  from  time 
to  time  to  invite  a  business  friend,  a  lover  of  pictures,  or 
some  young  artist  to  the  house  to  dinner  or  for  the  eve- 
ning, and  on  these  occasions  Aileen  was  always  present. 
The  Addisons  called  or  invited  them  occasionally.  But  it 
was  a  dull  game,  the  more  so  since  their  complete  defeat 
was  thus  all  the  more  plainly  indicated. 

This  defeat,  as  Cowperwood  kept  reflecting,  was  really 
not  his  fault  at  all.  He  had  been  getting  along  well  enough 
peraonally.   If  Aileen  had  o^  been  a  somewhat  different 


UNDERCURRENTS 

type  of  woman!  Nevertheless,  he  was  in  no  way  prepared 
to  desert  or  reproach  her.  She  had  clung  to  him  through 
loM  Stormy  prison  days.  She  had  encouraged  him  when 
he  meded  encouragement.  He  would  stand  by  her  and 
see  what  could  be  done  a  little  later;  but  this  ostracism 
was  a  rather  dreary  thing  to  endure.  Besides,  personally,  he 
appeared  to  be  becoming  more  and  more  interesting  to  men 
and  to  women.  The  men  friends  he  had  made  he  retained 
—Addison,  Bailey,  Videra,  McKibben,  Rambaud,  ai>id 
odiers.  There  were  women  in  society,  a  number  of  them, 
who  regretted  his  disappearance  if  not  that  of  Aileen.  Occa- 
sionally the  experiment  would  be  tried  of  inviting  him  with- 
out his  wife.  At  first  he  refused  invariably;  later  he  went 
alone  occasionally  to  a  dinner-party  without  her  knowiedse. 

It  was  during  this  interregnum  that  Cowperwood  n>r 
the  first  time  clearly  began  to  get  the  idea  that  there  was 
a  marked  difference  between  him  and  Aileen  intellectually 
and  spiritually;  and  that  while  he  might  be  in  accord  wiw 
her  in  many  ways — emotionally,  physically,  idyllidy — 
there  were,  nevertheless,  many  things  which  he  could  do 
alone  whiai  she  cotdd  not  do— heights  to  which  he  could 
rise  where  she  could  not  possibly  follow.  Chicago  society 
might  be  a  ne^^ligible  quantity,  but  he  was  now  to  contrast 
her  sharply  w^  the  best  of  what  the  Old  World  had  to 
oflFer  in  the  matter  of  femininity,  for  foUovring  their  social 
expulsion  in  Chicago  and  his  financial  victory,  he  once 
more  decided  to  go  abroad.  In  Rcmi^  at  the  Japanese  and 
Brazilian  embassies  (where,  because  of  his  wealth,  he 
gained  introduction),  and  at  the  newly  established  Italian 
Court,  he  oicountered  at  a  distance  charming  social 
figures  of  considerable  significance — Italian  countesses, 
English  ladies  of  high  degree,  talented  American  women 
<^  ttnmg  arristic  and  social  proclivities.  As  a  rule  they 
were  quick  to  recognize  the  charm  of  his  manner,  the  in- 
cisiveness  and  i^rip  of  his  mind,  and  to  estimate  at  all  tta 
worth  the  hich  mdividuality  of  his  sou^;  but  he  could  also 
always  see  uiat  Aileen  was  not  so  acceptable.  She  was 
too  ndi  in  her  eitourajie,  too  showy.  Her  glowing  hcahh 
and  beauty  was  a  species  of  affront  to  the  paler,  more  sub- 
limated aoula  of  many  who  were  not  in  themselves  un- 
attractivf« 

107 


THE  TITAN 


"Im't  that  the  typical  American  for  you,"  he  heard  a 
woman  remark,  at  one  of  those  large,  veiy  general  court 
receptions  to  which  so  many  are  freely  admitted,  and  to 
which  Aileen  had  been  determined  to  go.  He  was  standing 
aside  talking  to  an  acquaintance  he  had  made — an  English- 
speaking  Greek  banker  stopping  at  the  Grand  Hotel — 
while  £leen  promenaded  with  the  banker's  wife.  Tlie 
speaker  was  an  Englishwoman.  "So  gaudy,  so  sdf- 
conscious,  and  so  naive!" 

Cowperwood  turned  to  look.  It  was  Aileen,  and  the 
lady  speaking  was  undoubtedly  well  bred,  thoughtful, 
good-looking.  He  had  to  admit  that  much  that  she  said 
was  true,  but  how  were  you  to  gage  a  woman  !ike  Aileen, 
anyhow?  She  was  not  reprehensible  in  any  way — just  a 
full-blooded  animal  glowing  with  a  love  of  life.  She  was 
attractive  to  him.  It  was  too  bad  that  people  of  obviously 
more  conservative  tendencies  were  so  opposed  to  her.  Why 
could  diey  not  see  what  he  saw>— a  kind  childish  en- 
thusiasm  tor  luxury  and  show  which  sprang,  perhaps,  from 
the  fact  that  in  her  youth  she  had  not  enjoyed  the  social 
opportunities  which  she  needed  and  longed  for.  He  felt 
sorry  for  her.  At  the  same  time  he  was  inclined  to  feel 
that  perhaps  now  another  type  of  woman  would  be  better 
for  him  socially.  If  he  had  a  harder  type,  one  with  keener 
artistic  perceptions  and  a  penchant  for  just  the  right  social 
touch  or  note,  how  much  better  he  wruld  do!  He  came 
home  bringing  a  Perudno,  brilliant  examples  <^  Luini, 
Previtali,  and  Pinturrichio  (this  last  a  portrait  of  Caesar 
Borgia),  which  he  picked  up  in  Italy,  to  say  nothing  of  two 
red  African  vases  of  great  size  that  he  found  in  Cairo,  a  tall 
gilt  Louis  Fifteenih  standard  of  carved  wood  that  he  dis- 
covered in  Rome,  two  ornate  candelabra  from  Venice  for 
his  walls,  and  a  pair  of  Italian  torcheras  from  Naoles  to 
decorate  the  comers  of  his  library.  It  was  thus  by  o^ees 
that  his  art  collection  was  growing. 

At  the  same  time  it  should  be  taid,  in  the  matter  of 
women  and  the  sex  question,  his  judgment  and  views 
had  begun  to  change  tremendously.  When  he  had  ^rst 
met  Aileen  he  had  many  keen  intuitions  regarding  life  and 
sex,  and  above  all  clear  faith  that  he  had  a  right  to  do  as 
lie  pleued.   I^ce  he  had  been  out  of  prison  and  once  more 


UNDERCURRENTS 


on  his  upward  way  there  had  been  many  a  stray  elance 
cast  in  his  direction;  he  had  so  often  had  it  clearly  forced 
upon  him  that  he  was  fascinating  to  women.  Although  he 
had  only  so  recently  acciuired  Aileen  legally,  yet  she  was 
years  old  to  him  as  a  mistress,  and  the  first  engrossing — it 
had  been  almost  all-engrossing — enthusiasm  was  over. 
He  loved  her  not  only  for  her  beauty,  but  for  her  faithful 
enthusiasm;  but  the  power  of  others  to  provoke  in  hinj  a 
momenti^ry  interest,  and  passion  even,  was  something 
which  he  did  not  pretend  to  understand,  explain,  or  moral- 
ize about.  So  was  and  so  ye  was.  He  did  not  want  to 
hurt  Aileen's  feelings  by  letting  her  know  that  hit  impulses 
thus  wantonly  strayec'  to  others,  but  so  it  was. 

Not  long  after  he  had  returned  from  the  European 
trip  he  stopped  one  aftemomi  in  the  «ie  exclusive  dry- 
goods  store  in  State  Street  to  purchase  a  tie.  As  ne 
was  entering  a  woman  crossed  the  aisle  before  him,  from 
one  coiniter  to  another — a  type  of  woman  which  he  was 
coming  to  admire,  but  only  tvom  a  rather  distant  point  of 
view,  seeing  them  going  here  and  there  in  the  world.  She 
was  a  dashmg  type,  essentially  tmart  and  trig,  with  a  neat 
figure,  dark  hair  and  eyes,  an  olive  skin,  small  mouth, 
quaint  nose — all  in  all  quite  a  figure  for  Chicago  at  the 
time.  She  had,  (uxthermore,  a  curious  look  of  current 
wisdom  in  her  eyes,  an  air  of  saucy  insolence  which  aroused 
Cowperwood's  sense  of  mastery,  his  desire  to  dominate. 
To  the  look  of  provocation  and  defiance  which  she  flung 
him  for  the  fracrion  of  a  second  he  returned  a  curiously 
leonine  glare  whidi  went  over  her  like  a  dash  <A  cdd  wtter. 
It  wai  not  a  hard  look,  however,  merely  urgent  and  full 
of  meaning.  She  was  the  vagrom-minded  wife  <^  a  pro«- 
perous  lawyer  ''lAva  was  absoroed  in  his  business  and  in 
nimself.  She  pretended  indifference  for  a  moment  after 
the  fint  ^ance.  but  paused  a  little  way  as  if  to  examine 
some  laces.  Cowperwood  kwked  after  her  to  catch  a 
second  fleeting,  attracted  look.  He  was  on  his  way  to  sev- 
eral engagements  which  he  did  not  wish  to  break,  but  he 
todc  out  a  nott-book,  wrote  on  a  slip  of  paper  the  name  of 
a  hotel,  and  underneath:  "Parlor,  second  floor,  Tuesday, 
I  P.M."  Passing  by  where  she  stood,  he  put  it  into  her 
gloved  hud,  iHit^  was  haagti^  by  her  ti^  The  fenfs^ 

109 


THE  TITAN 

closed  over  it  automatically.  She  had  noted  his  action. 
On  the  day  and  hour  suegested  she  was  there,  although  he 
had  ghm  no  name.  iSat  liaison,  while  delightful  to  him, 
was  of  no  great  dimtiim.  The  lady  was  interesting,  but 
too  fanciful. 

Similarly,  at  the  Henry  Huddlestones',  one  of  their  neigh- 
bors at  the  first  Michigan  Avenue  house  they  occupied,  he 
encountered  one  evening  at  a  small  dinner-party  a  girl  of 
twenty -three  who  interested  him  greatly — for  the  mo- 
ment. Her  name  was  not  very  attractive  —  Ella  F. 
Hubby,  as  he  eventually  learned — but  she  was  not  un- 
pleasing.  Her  principal  charm  was  a  laughing,  hoyden- 
ish  countenance  and  roguish  eyes.  She  was  the  daughter  of 
a  wdl-to-do  commission  merchant  in  South  Water  Street. 
That  her  interest  should  have  been  aroused  by  that  of 
Cowperwood  in  her  was  natural  enough.  She  was  young, 
fbdish,  impressionable,  easily  struck  by  the  glitter  of  a 
reputation,  and  Mrs.  Huddlestone  had  spoken  highly  of 
Cowperwood  and  his  wife  and  the  great  things  he  was 
doing  or  was  going  to  do.  When  Ella  saw  him,  and  saw 
that  he  was  still  young-looking,  with  the  love  of  beauty 
in  his  eyes  and  a  force  of  presence  which  was  not  at  all 
hard  where  she  was  concerned,  she  was  diarmed;  and  ^en 
Aileen  was  not  looking  her  glance  kept  constantly  wander- 
ii^  to  his  with  a  lauehing  signification  of  friendship  and 
adinirati<m.  It  was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world 
for  him  to  say  to  her,  when  they  had  adjourned  to  the 
('rawing-room,  that  if  sh  were  in  the  neighborhood  of  his 
office  some  day  she  might  care  to  look  in  on  him.  The  lode 
he  gave  her  was  one  of  keen  understanding,  and  brought  a 
look  of  its  own  kind,  warm  and  flushing,  in  return.  She 
came,  and  there  began  a  rather  short  liaison.  It  was  in- 
teresting but  not  brilliant.  The  girl  did  not  have  sufficient 
temperament  to  bind  him  beyond  a  period  of  rather  idle 
investigation. 

"Hiere  was  still,  for  a  little  while,  another  woman,  whom 
he  had  known — a  Mrs.  Josephine  Ledwell,  a  smart  widow, 
who  came  primarily  to  gamble  on  the  Board  of  1  rade,  but 
who  b^an  to  see  at  once,  on  introduction,  the  charm  of  a 
filrtation  with  Cowperwood.  She  was  a  woman  not  unlike 
Adeoi  in  type,  a  little  older,  not  so  good-iooJcni^  md  of  a 

no 


UNDERCURRENTS 

harder,  iiK>re  subtle  commercial  type  of  mind.  She  ra^er 
interested  Cowperwood  because  she  was  so  trig,  self- 
sufficient,  and  careful.  She  did  her  best  to  lure  mm  on 
to  a  liaison  with  her,  which  finally  resulted,  her  apartment 
on  die  North  Side  being  the  center  of  this  rdadonriiip. 
It  lasted  perhaps  six  weeks.  Through  it  all  he  was  quite 
satisfied  that  he  did  not  like  her  so  very  well.  Any  one 
who  associated  with  him  had  Aileen's  present  attractiveness 
to  contend  with,  as  well  as  the  ordinal  diarm  oi  hit  first 
wife.   It  was  no  easy  matter. 

It  was  during  this  period  of  social  dullness,  however, 
which  somewhat  resembled,  though  it  did  not  exactly 

Parallel  his  first  years  with  his  first  wife,  that  Cowperwood 
nally  met  a  woman  who  was  destined  to  leave  a  marked 
impress'Vn  on  his  life.  He  could  not  soon  forget  her. 
Her  nanic  was  Rita  Sohlberg.  She  was  the  wife  of  Harold 
Sohlberg,  a  Danish  violinist  who  was  then  living  in  Chicago, 
a  vety  young  man;  but  she  was  not  a  Dane,  and  he  was 
by  no  means  a  remarkable  violinist,  though  he  had  un- 
questionably the  musical  temperament. 

You  have  perhaps  seen  the  would-be's,  the  nearlv's,  the 
pretenders  in  every  field — interesting  people  all— devoted 
with  a  kind  of  mad  enthusiasm  to  the  thing  they  wish  to 
do.  They  manifest  in  tome  ways  aXi  the  externals  or  ear- 
marks of  their  professional  traditions,  and  yet  are  as 
sounding  brass  and  tinkline  cymbals.  You  would  have 
had  to  know  Harold  Sohlberg  only  a  little  while  to 
appreciate  that  he  belcmged  to  this  order  of  artists. 
He  had  a  wild,  stormy,  November  eye,  a  wealth  of 
loose,  brownish-black  hair  combed  upward  from  the 
temples,  widi  one  lock  strageling  Napoleonically  down 
toward  the  eyes;  cheeks  thathad  almost  a  babyish  tint 
to  them:  lips  much  too  rich,  red,  and  sensuous;  a  nose 
diat  was  fine  and  large  and  full,  but  only  faintly  aquiline; 
and  eyebrows  and  mustache  that  somehow  seemed  to 
flare  quite  like  his  errant  and  foolish  soul.  He  had  been 
sent  away  from  Denmark  (Copmhagen)  because  he  had 
been  a  ne'er-do-well  up  to  twenty-five  and  because  he  was 
constantly  falling  in  love  with  women  who  would  not  have 
anything  to  do  with  him.  Here  in  Chici^  u  stealer, 
with  hia  imall  pcnakm  of  fr  rty  ddkrs  a  mondi  mt  ham. 


THE  TITAN 


by  his  mother,  he  had  gained  a  few  pupils,  and  bv  practising 
a  kind  of  erratic  economy,  whidi  kept  him  well  dressed  or 
hungry  by  turns,  he  had  managed  to  make  an  interesting 
blowing  and  pull  himself  through.  He  was  only  twenty- 
eight  at  the  time  he  met  Rita  GreoKMi^,  of  Wichita, 
Kansas,  and  at  the  time  they  met  Cowperwood  Harold  was 
thirty-four  and  she  twenty-seven,  c  ,  . 

She  had  been  a  student  at  the  Chicago  Fine  Arts  School, 
and  at  various  student  affairs  had  encountered  Harold 
when  he  seemed  to  play  divinely,  and  when  life  was  all 
romance  and  art.  Given  the  spring,  the  sunshine  on  the 
lake,  white  saiV.  of  ships,  a  few  walks  and  talks  on  pen- 
sive afternoons  when  the  city  swam  in  a  golden  haze,  and 
the  thmg  was  doro.  There  was  a  sudden  Saturday  after- 
noon marriage,  a  runaway  day  to  Milwaukee,  a  return  to 
the  studio  now  to  be  fitted  out  for  two,  and  then  kisses, 
kisses,  kisses  until  love  was  satisfied  or  eased. 

But  life  cannot  exist  on  that  diet  alone,  and  so  by  de- 

frees  the  difl&culties  had  begun  to  manifest  themselves, 
ortunately,  the  latter  were  not  allied  with  sharp  financial 
want.  Rita  was  not  poor.  Her  father  conducted  a  small 
but  profitable  grain  elevator  at  Wchita,  and,  after  her 
sudden  marriage,  decided  to  continue  her  allowance,  though 
this  whole  idea  of  art  and  music  in  its  upper  reaches  was 
to  him  a  strange,  far-off,  uncertain  thing.  A  thin, 
meticulous,  genial  person  interested  in  small  trade  oppor- 
tunities, and  exactly  suited  to  the  rather  sparse  social  life 
of  Wichita,  he  found  Harold  as  curious  as  a  bomb,  and  pre- 
ferred to  handle  him  eingerly.  Gradually,  however,  being 
a  very  human  if  sinntple  person,  he  came  to  be  very  proud 
of  it— boasted  in  Wichita  of  Rita  and  her  artist  husband, 
invited  them  home  to  astound  the  neighbors  during  the 
summer-time,  and  the  fall  brought  his  almost  farmer-like 
wife  on  to  see  them  and  to  enjoy  trips,  sight-tedng,  studio 
teas.  It  was  amusing,  typically  American,  naive,  almost 
impossible  from  many  points  of  view. 


full-blooded,  with  a  body  that  was  going  to  be  fat  at  forty, 
but  which  at  present  was  deliciously  alluring.  Having 
•oft,  aUky,  lieht-brown  hair,  the  color  of  light  dust,  and 
moist  gny-blue  ^es,  with  a  fair  skin  and  even,  white 

iia 


Rita  Sohlben 


UNDERCURRENTS 

'teeth,  she  was  ilatteringly  self-conscious  of  her  charms. 
She  pretended  in  a  gay,  childlike  way  to  be  unconscious  of 
the  thrill  she  sent  through  many  susceptible  males,  and 
yet  she  knew  well  enough  all  the  while  what  she  was  doing 
and  how  she  was  doing  it;  it  pleased  her  so  to  do.  She 
was  conscious  of  the  wonder  o£  her  smooth,  soft  arms  and 
neck,  the  fullness  and  seductiveness  of  her  body,  the  grace 
and  perfection  of  her  dothine,  or,  at  least,  the  individuality 
and  taste  which  she  made  them  indicate.  She  could  take 
an  old  straw-hat  form,  a  ribbon,  a  feather,  or  a  rose*  and 
with  an  innate  artistry  of  feeling  turn  it  into  a  bit  of  mil- 
linery which  somehow  was  just  the  effective  thing  for  her. 
She  chose  naive  combinations  of  white  and  blues,  pinks  and 
white,  browns  and  pale  yellows,  which  somrfum  sunested 
her  own  soul,  and  topped  them  with  great  sashes  of  silky 
brown  (or  even  red)  nobon  tied  about  ner  waist,  and  large, 
soft-brimmed,  face-haloing  hats.  She  was  a  graceful  dancer, 
could  sing  a  little,  could  play  feelingly — sometimes  bril- 
liantly— and  could  draw.  Her  art  was  a  makeshift,  how- 
ever; she  was  no  artist.  The  nK»t  significant  thing  alxMit 
her  was  her  moods  and  her  thoughts,  which  were  uncertain, 
casual,  anarchic.  Rita  Sohlberg,  from  the  conventional  point 
of  view,  was  a  dangerotit  person,  and  yet  from  her  ownpomt^ 
view  at  this  time  she  was  not  so  at  all — ^just  dreamy  and  sweet. 

A  part  of  the  peculiarity  of  her  state  was  that  Sohlb^ 
had  Degun  to  disappomt  Rita — sorely.  Truth  to  he 
was  suffering  from  that  most  terrible  of  all  maladies,  un- 
certainty of  soul  and  inability  to  truly  find  himself.  At 
times  he  was  not  sure  wbedwr  he  wat  cut  out  to  be  a  great 
violinist  or  a  great  composer,  or  merely  a  great  teacher, 
which  last  he  was  never  willing  really  to  admit.  "I  am 
an  arteest,"  he  wa«  fond  of  saying.  "Ho,  how  I  suffer 
from  my  temperament!"  And  again:  "These  doni 
These  cows!  These  pigs!"  This  of  other  people.  The 
qusdity  of  his  playing  was  exceedingly  erratic,  even  though 
a'  times  it  attained  to  a  kind  of  subtlety,  tenderness,  aware* 
ness,  and  charm  which  brought  him  scrnie  attention.  At 
a  rule,  however,  it  reflected  the  chaotic  state  of  his  own 
brain.  He  would  play  violoitly,  feverishly,  with  a  wild 
pani<Miataieii  <^  ^Mue  whidi  fobbed  hm  of  lA  $kSkf 
to  contid  his  own 

113 


THE  TITAN 


"Oh,  Haroldl"  Rita  used  to  cadaim  at  fim»  aCTtatMHiBy, 
Later  she  was  not  so  sure. 

Life  and  diaracter  must  really  get  somewhere  to  be  ad- 
mirable, and  Harold,  really  and  truly,  did  not  seem  to  be 
setting  anjrwhere.  He  taught,  stormed,  dreamed,  wept; 
but  he  ate  his  three  meals  a  day,  Rita  noticed,  and  he  took 
an  excited  interest  at  times  in  other  women.  To  be  the 
be-all  and  end-all  of  some  one  man's  life  was  the  least 
that  Rita  could  conceive  or  concede  as  the  worth  of  her 
personalitv,  and  so,  as  the  years  went  on  and  Harold 
b^an  to  be  unfaithful,  first  in  moods,  transports,  then  in 
deeds,  her  mood  became  dangerous.  She  counted  them 
up  —  a  girl  music  pupil,  then  an  art  student,  then  the 
wife  of  a  banker  at  whose  house  Harold  played  socially. 
There  f<^owed  siiange,  sullen  moods  on  tne  part  of  Rita, 
visits  home,  groveling  repentances  on  the  part  of  Harold, 
tears,  violent,  passionate  reunions,  and  then  the  same  thing 
over  again.   What  would  you? 

Rita  was  not  jealous  of  Harold  any  more;  she  had  lost 
faith  in  his  ability  as  a  musician.  But  she  was  disappointed 
that  her  charms  were  not  sufficient  to  blind  him  to  all 
others.  That  was  the  fly  in  the  ointment.  It  was  an 
affront  to  her  beauty,  and  she  was  still  beautiful.  She  was 
unctuouslv  full-bodied,  not  quite  so  tall  as  Eileen,  not 
readly  as  lan^,  but  rounder  and  plumper,  softer  and  more 
seductive,  niysically  she  was  not  well  set  up,  so  vigor- 
ous; but  her  eyes  and  mouth  and  the  roving  character  of 
her  mind  held  a  strange  lure.  Mentally  she  was  much  more 
aware  than  Aileen,  much  more  precise  in  her  knowledge  of 
art,  music,  literature,  and  current  events;  and  in  the  fidd 
of  romance  she  was  much  more  vague  and  alluring.  She 
knew  many  things  about  flowers,  precious  stones,  msects, 
birds,  characters  in  ficdon,  and  poetic  prose  and  vene 
generally. 

At  the  time  the  Cowperwoods  first  met  the  Sohlbergs 
the  latter  still  had  their  studio  in  the  New  Arts  Building, 
and  all  was  seemingly  as  serene  as  a  May  morning,  only 
Harc^  was  not  getting  alonp;  very  well.  He  was  driftine. 
The  meeting  was  at  a  tea  given  by  the  Haatstaedts,  with 
whom  the  Cowperwoods  were  still  friendly,  and  Harold 
played.  Aileen,  who  was  there  alone,  seeing  a  dumce  to 

"4 


UNDERCURRENTS 


brighten  her  own  life  a  little,  invited  the  Sohlbergs,  who 
seemed  rather  above  the  average,  to  her  house  to  a  musical 
evaung.  They  came. 

On  this  occasion  Cowperwood  took  one  look  at  Sohl- 
bets  placed  him  exactly.  "An  erratic,  emotional  tem- 
perament,*' he  thought.  "Probably  not  able  to  place  him- 
self for  want  of  consistency  and  application.'  But  he 
liked  him  after  a  fashion.  Sohlberg  was  interesting  as  an 
artistic  type  or  fisure — quite  like  a  character  in  a  Japanese 
print  might  be.   He  greeted  him  pleasantly. 

"And  Mrs.  Sohlberg,  I  suppose,*'  he  remarked,  feelingly, 
catchiiM  a  quick  suggestion  of  the  rhythm  and  suffidency 
and  nanre  taste  that  went  widi  her.  She  wm  in  sim|ws 
white  and  blue — small  blue  ribbons  threaded  above  lacy 
flounces  in  the  skirt.  Her  arms  and  throat  were  delidoua- 
ly  woh  and  bare.  Her  eyes  were  qui^  and  ytt  aoft  ud 
babyish — petted  ev** 

**Vou  know,"  sh(  to  him,  with  a  peculiar  rounded 
formation  dP  die  mc^.  ..,  whidi  was  a  characteristic  of  her 
when  she  talked — a  pretty,  pouty  mouth,  "I  thought  we 
would  never  get  heah  at  all.  There  was  a  fire" — she  pro- 
nounced it  fv-yah— "at  Twelfth  Street"  (the  Twelfth  wat 
Twalfth  in  her  mouth)  "and  the  engines  were  all  about 
there.  Oh,  such  sparks  and  smoke!  And  the  flames 
coming  out  of  the  wmdowsl  The  flames  were  a  very  dark 
red — almost  orange  and  black.  They're  pretty  iHien 
they're  that  way—^lon't  you  think  so?" 

Cowperwood  was  charmed.  "Indeed,  I  do,"  he  sai^ 
genially,  using  a  kind  of  superior  and  yet  sympathetic  air 
.  hich  he  could  easily  assume  on  occasion.  He  felt  as 
though  Mis.  Sohlberg  might  be  a  charming  daughter  to  him 
—she  was  so  cuddling  and  shy — and  yet  he  could  see  that 


himselfjwere  lovely.  Mrs.  Sohlberg  only  saw  before  her  a  smart, 
cold,  exact  man — capable,  very,  she  presumed — with  brill- 
iant, incisive  eyes.  How  different  from  Harold,  she  thou^t, 
who  would  never  be  anything  much — not  even  famous. 

"I'm  so  ^ad  you  brought  your  violin,"  Aileen  was  saving 
to  Han^,  «^  was  m  another  cormv.  "I've  been  heiaat 
hswad  to  yoat  como%  to  play  for  ui.** 

"S 


Her  arms  and  face,  he  tdd 


THE  TITAN 


"Very  nize  ov  you,  I'm  sure,"  Soblberg  replied,  with 
his  sweety  drawl.  "Such  a  nize  plaze  vou  have  here — all 
these  loany  books,  and  jade,  and  glass. ' 

He  had  an  unctuous,  yielding  way  which  was  charming, 
Aileen  thoueht.  He  should  have  a  strong,  rich  woman  to 
take  Ciire  ofluiii.   He  was  tike  a  stormy,  erratic  boy. 

After  refreshments  were  served  Soblberg  played.  Cow- 

Eerwocd  was  interested  by  his  standing  figure — his  eyes, 
is  hair — but  he  was  much  more  interested  in  Mrs. 
Sohlbeis,  to  whom  his  look  constantly  strayed.  He 
watched  her  hands  on  the  keys,  her  fingers,  the  dimples 
at  her  elbows.  What  an  adorable  mouth,  he  thoueht» 
and  what  l^ht,  fluffy  hairl  But,  more  than  that,  there 
was  a  mood  that  invested  it  all— -a  bit  of  tinted  color  of 
the  mind  that  reached  him  and  made  him  sympathetic  and 
even  passionate  toward  her.  She  was  the  kind  of  woman 
he  would  tike.  She  was  somewhat  like  Aileen  when  she 
was  six  years  younger  (Aileen  was  now  thirty-three,  and 
Mrs.  Soblberg  twenty-seven),  only  Aileen  had  always  been 
more  robust,  more  vigorous,  less  nebulmts.  Mrs.  lK>hlberK 
(he  finally  thought  it  out  for  himselQ  was  like  the  rich 
tinted  interior  of  a  South  Sea  oyster-shell — warm,  colorful, 
ddicate.  But  there  was  something  firm  there,  too.  No- 
where in  society  had  he  seen  any  one  like  her.  She  was 
rapt,  sensuous,  beautiful.  He  kept  his  eyes  on  her  until 
finally  she  became  aware  that  he  was  gazing  at  her,  and 
then  she  looked  back  at  him  in  an  arch,  smiling  way,  fixing 
her  mouth  in  a  potenv  line.  Cowperwood  was  captivated. 
Waw  she  vulnerable?  was  his  one  thought.  Did  that  faint 
smile  mean  anything  more  than  mere  social  con  .^'aisance? 
Probably  not,  but  could  not  a  temperament  so  rich  and  full 
be  awakened  to  feeling  by  his  own  r  When  she  was  throu^ 
playing  he  took  occasion  to  say:  "Wouldn't  you  like  to 
stroll  rato  the  gallery?  Are  you  fond  of  pictures?"  He 
gcve  her  his  arm. 

"Now,  you  know,"  said  Mrs.  Sohlbei^  quaintly — ^very 
captiyatingly.  he  thought,  because  she  was  so  pretty — "at 
one  time  I  thought  I  was  going  to  be  a  great  artist.  Isn't 
that  funny  1  I  sent  my  father  one  or  my  drawings  in- 
scribed 'to  yfhom  I  owe  it  all.'  You  would  have  to  see 
^  drawiiv  to  see  how  funny  that  is.** 

ii6 


UNDERCURRENTS 

She  laughed  softly. 

Cowperwood  responded  with  a  refreshed  interest  in  life. 
Her  laugh  was  as  grateful  to  him  as  a  summer  wind.  "  See/' 
he  said,  gentiv,  as  .hey  entered  the  room  aglow  with  the 
soft  light  produced  by  littered  jets,  "here  is  a  Luini  bought 
last  winter."  It  was  'HThe  Mystic  Marriage  of  St.  Catha- 
rine." He  paused  while  she  surveyed  the  rapt  expression 
of  the  attenuated  saint.  "And  here,"  he  went  on,  "is  my 
greatest  find  so  far."  They  were  before  the  crafty  counte- 
nance of  Caesar  .Borgia  painted  by  Pinturrichio. 

"What  a  strange  face!"  commented  Mrs.  Sohlbe^^ 
naively.  "I  didn't  know  any  one  had  ever  painted  him. 
He  looks  somewhat  like  an  artist  himself,  doetn't  he?" 
Sht  had  never  read  the  involved  and  quite  Satanic  hittoiy 
<^  thif  man,  and  only  knew  the  rumor  of  his  crimct  and 
macynations. 

''He  was,  in  his  way,"  smiled  Cowperwood,  who  had 
had  an  outline  his  life,  and  that  of  his  father,  P<^ 
Alexander  VI.,  furnished  him  at  the  time  of  the  purchase. 
Only  so  recently  had  his  interest  in  Caesar  Borgia  b^un. 
Mrs.  SoMbeis  scarcely  gathered  the  dy  humor  >f  it. 

"Oh  yes,  and  here  is  Mrs.  Cowperwood,"  she  com- 
mented, turning  to  the  painting  by  Van  Beers.  "It's  high 
in  key,  isn't  it?"  she  said,  loftily,  but  with  an  innocmt 
loftiness  that  appealed  to  him.  He  liked  spirit  and  some 
presumption  in  a  woman.  "What  brilliant  colors  1  I  like 
the  idea  of  the  garden  and  the  clouds." 

She  stepped  back,  and  Cowperwood,  interested  only  in 
her,  surveyed  the  line  of  her  back  and  the  profile  of  her 
face.  Sucn  co-ordinated  perfection  of  line  and  color  I 
"Wher''  every  motion  weaves  and  sings,"  he  mi^t  have 
commented.  Instead  he  said:  "Tliat  was  in  Brands. 
The  clouds  were  an  aftnthmi^h^  and  that  vase  on  dw 
wall,  too." 

"It's  very  good,  I  think,"  commented  Mrs.  Sohlberg, 
and  moved  away. 

"How  do  you  like  this  Israels?"  he  asked.  It  was  the 
painting  called  "The  Frugal  Meal." 

"I  like  it,"  she  said,  "and  also  your  Bastien  Le-Page," 
referring  to  "The  1  rge."  "But  I  think  your  old  masters 
ut  tmxk  more  inmetting.   If  you  get  many  mora  you 

117 


THE  TITAN 


ought  to  put  them  together  in  a  room.   Don't  you  think 
sor   I  don't  care  for  your  Gerome  very  much."   She  had 
a  cute  drawl  which  he  considered  infinitely  alluring. 
**Why  not?"  asked  Cowperwood. 

"Oh,  it's  rather  artificial;  don't  you  hink  so?  I  like 
the  color,  but  the  women's  bodies  are  too  perfect,  J  should 
say.    It's  very  pretty,  though." 

He  had  little  faith  in  the  ability  of  women  aside  from 
their  value  as  objects  of  art;  and  yet  now  and  then,  as  in 
this  instance,  they  revealed  a  sweet  insight  which  sharpened 
his  own.  Aileen,  he  reflected,  would  not  be  capable  of 
making  a  remark  such  as  this.  She  was  not  as  *)eautiful 
now  as  this  woman — not  as  alluringly  simple,  naive,  de- 
licious, nor  yet  as  wise.  Mrs.  Sohlbeqt,  he  reflected  shrewd- 
ly, had  a  kind  of  fool  for  a  husband.  Would  she  take  an 
interest  in  him,  Frank  Cowperwood  ?  Would  a  woman  like 
this  surrender  on  anv  basis  outside  of  divorce  and  mar- 
riage? He  wondered.  On  her  part,  Mrs.  Sohlbere  was 
thinking  what  a  forceful  man  Cowperwood  was,  and  how 
close  he  had  stayed  by  her.  She  felt  his  interest,  for  she 
had  often  mea  diese  symptoms  in  other  men  and  knew 
wha*  hey  meant.^  She  knew  the  pull  of  her  own  beauty, 
and,  while  she  heightened  it  as  artfullv  as  she  dared,  yet 
die  kept  aloof,  too,  feeling  that  she  had  never  met  any  one 
as  yet  for  whom  it  was  worth  while  to  be  different.  But 
Cowperwood — ^he  needed  some  one  more  soulful  than 
Aihea,  die  diought. 


CHAPTER  XV 


A  IIBW  ATPlCnOlf 

THE  growth  of  a  rdationthip  between  Cowperwood 
and  Rita  Sohlberg  was  fostered  ()uite  accident- 
ally by  Aileen,  who  took  a  foolishly  sentimental  interest 
in  HmAA  which  yet  was  not  basea  on  uijrAnig  of  real 
meaning.  She  liked  him  because  he  was  a  superlatively 
gradouSy  flattering,  emotional  man  where  women — pretty 
iromen — were  concerned.  She  had  WMne  idea  she  could 
send  him  pupils,  and,  anyhow,  it  was  nice  to  call  at  the 
Sohlberg  studio.  Her  social  life  was  dull  enough  as  it  was. 
So  Ae  went,  and  Cowperwood,  mindful  of  Mrs.  Sohlberg, 
came  also.  Shrewd  to  the  point  of  destruction,  he  encour- 
aged Aileen  in  her  interest  in  them.  He  suggested  that 
she  invite  them  to  dinner,  that  they  give  a  musical  at 
which  Sohlberg  could  play  and  be  paid.  There  were  boxes 
at  the  theaters,  tickets  for  concertt  sent,  invitations  to 
drive  Sundays  or  other  days. 

The.  very  chemistry  of  life  seems  to  play  into  the  I  \nds 
of  a  situation  of  this  kind.  Once  Cowperwood  was  think- 
is^  vividly,  forcefully,  of  her,  Rita  began  to  think  in  like 
manner  of  him.  Hourly  he  grew  more  attractive,  a  suanee, 
gripping  man.  Beset  by  tus  mood,  she  was  having  the 
devil's  own  time  with  her  conscience.  Not  that  anjrthing 
had  been  said  as  yet,  but  he  was  investing  her,  gradually 
beleaguering  her,  sealing  up,  apparently,  <me  avenue  after 
another  of  escape.  One  Thursday  afternoon,  when  neither 
Aileen  nor  he  could  attend  the  Sohlberg  tea,  Mrs.  Sohlberg 
recdred  a  magnificent  bunch  of  Jacqueminot  roses.  "For 
your  nooks  and  comers,'*  said  a  card.  She  knew  well 
enough  from  whom  it  came  and  what  it  was  worth.  There 
were  all  of  fifty  debars,  worth  of  roses.  It  gave  her  breath 
<^  *  woM  of  mooey  that  she  had  never  known.   Daily  she 

119 


THE  TITAN 


saw  the  name  of  his  banking  and  brokerage  firm  advertised 
in  the  papers.  Once  she  met  him  in  Merrill's  store  at  noon, 
and  he  invited  her  to  lunch;  but  she  felt  obliged  to  decline. 
Always  he  looked  at  her  with  such  straight,  vigorous  eyes. 
To  think  that  her  beauty  had  done  or  was  doing  this!  Her 
mind,  quite  beyond  herself,  ran  forward  to  an  hour  when 

Eerhaps  this  eager,  magnetic  man  would  take  charge  of 
er  in  a  way  never  dreamed  of  by  Harold.  But  she  went 
on  practising,  shopping,  calling,  reading,  brooding  over 
Harold's  inefficiency,  and  stopping  oddly  sometimes  to  think 
— ^the  etherealized  grip  of  Cowperwood  upon  her.  TTiose 
strong  hands  of  his — how  fine  they  were — and  those  large, 
soft-hard,  incisive  eyes.  The  puiitanism  of  Wichita  (modi- 
fied sometime  since  by  the  art  life  of  Chicago,  such  as  it 
was)  was  having  a  severe  struggle  with  the  manipulative 
subtlety  of  the  ages — re-presented  in  this  man. 

"You  know  you  are  very  elusive,"  he  said  to  her  one 
evening  at  the  theater  when  he  sat  behind  her  during  the 
entr'acte,  and  Harold  and  Aileen  had  gone  to  walk  in  the 
foyer.  The  hubbub  of  conversation  drowned  rfie  sound  of 
anything  that  might  be  said.  Mrs.  Sohlbeig  was  particu- 
larly pleasing  in  a  lacy  evening  gown. 

*'No,"  she  replied,  amusedly,  flattered  by  his  attention 
and  acutely  conscious  of  his  physical  nearness.  By  de- 
grees she  had  been  yielding  herself  to  his  mood,  thrilling  at 
his  every  word.  "It  seems  to  me  I  am  very  stable,"  die 
went  on.    "I'm  certainly  substantial  enough." 

She  looked  at  her  full,  smooth  arm  lying  on  her  lap. 
G)wperwood,  who  was  feeling  all  the  drag  of  her  sub- 
stantiality, but  in  addition  the  wonder  of  her  temperament, 
which  was  so  much  richer  than  Aiieen's,  was  deeply  moved. 
Those  little  blood  moods  that  no  words  ever  (or  rarely) 
indicate  were  coming  to  him  from  her — faint  zephyr-like 
emanations  of  emotions,  moods,  and  fancies  in  ner  mind 
which  allured  him.  She  was  like  Aileen  in  animality,  but 
better,  still  sweeter,  more  delicate,  much  richer  spiritually. 
Or  was  he  just  tired  of  Aileen  for  the  present,  he  asked  him- 
self at  times.  No,  no,  he  told  himself  that  could  not  be. 
Rita  Sohlberg  was  by  far  the  most  pleasing  woman  he  had 
ever  known. 

"Yes,  but  elusive,  just  the  same,"  he  went  <»,  leaning 

ISO 


A  NEW  AFFECTION 


toward  her.  "You  remind  me  of  something  that  I  can 
find  no  word  for — a  bit  of  color  or  a  perfume  or  tone — a 
flash  of  something.  I  follow  you  in  my  t  c?<ghts  all  the 
time  now.  Your  knowledge  of  art  inter  *  s  me.  I  jHce  your 
playing — it  is  like  you.  You  make  mt  think  of  'teii^iitful 
things  that  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  ordinary  run  of  my 
life.    Do  you  understand?" 

"  It  is  very  nice,"  she  said,  "  if  I  do."  She  took  «  breath, 
softly,  dramatically.  "You  make  me  think  vain  things, 
you  know."  (Her  mouth  was  a  delicious  O.)  "You  paint 
a  pretty  picture."  She  was  warm,  flushed,  suffused  ymti  a 
burst  of  ner  own  temperament. 

"You  are  like  that,"  he  went  on,  insistently.  "You 
make  me  feel  like  that  all  the  time.  You  know,"  he 
added,  leaning  over  her  chair,  "I  sometimes  think  you 
have  never  lived.  There  is  so  much  that  would  complete 
your  perfectness.  I  should  like  to  send  you  abroad  or 
take  you — anyhow,  you  should  go.  You  are  verjr  won- 
derful to  me.  Do  you  find  me  at  all  interesting  to 
your 

"Yes,  but"— she  paused— "you  know  I  am  afraid  of 
all  this  and  of  you."  Her  mouth  had  that  same  delicious 
formation  which  had  first  attracted  him.  "I  don't  think 
we  had  better  talk  like  this,  do  you.?  Harold  k  very 
jealous,  or  would  be.  What  do  you  suppose  Mrs.  Cowper- 
wood  would  think?" 

"I  know  very  well,  but  we  needn't  stop  to  consider  that 
now,  need  we  ?  It  will  do  her  no  harm  to  let  me  talk  to  you. 
Life  is  between  individuals,  Rita.  You  and  I  have  very 
much  in  common.  Don't  you  see  that?  You  are  in- 
finitely the  most  interesting  woman  I  have  ever  known. 
You  are  bringing  me  something  I  have  never  knovv  n.  Don't 
you  see  that?  I  want  you  to  tell  me  something  truly.  Look 
at  me.  You  are  not  happy  as  you  are,  are  you?  Not  per- 
fectly happy?" 

"No."  She  smoothed  her  fan  with  her  fingers. 

"Are  you  happy  at  all?" 

"I  thought  I  was  once.   I'm  not  any  more,  I  dimk.** 
"It  is  so  plain  why,"  he  commented.    "You  are  to  much 
more  wonderful  than  your  place  gives  you  scope  fw.  You 
an  an  iadhrtdual,  not  an  acolyte  lo  ming  a  ooHer  loi 

lai 


THE  TIT^N 

another.  Mr.  Sohlberg  is  very  interesting,  but  you  can't 
be  happv  that  way.   It  surprises  me  you  haven't  seen  it." 

"On/  she  exclaimed,  wiui  a  touch  of  weariness,  "but 
perhaps  I  have." 

He  looked  at  her  keenly,  and  she  thrilled.  "I  don't 
think  we'd  better  talk  so  here,"  she  replied.  "You'd 
better  be — " 

He  laid  his  hand  on  the  back  of  her  chair,  almost  touch- 
ing her  shoulder. 

Rita,"  he  said,  using  her  given  name  again,  "you 
wonderful  woman!" 

"Ohr'  she  breathed. 

Cowperwood  did  not  see  Mrs.  Sohlberg  again  for  ovei 
a  week — ^ten  days  exactly — ^when  one  afternoon  Aileen 
came  for  him  in  a  new  kind  of  trap,  having  stopped  first 
to  pick  up  the  Sohlbergs.  Harold  was  up  in  front  with 
her  and  she  had  left  a  place  behind  for  Cowperwood 
with  Rita.  She  did  not  in  the  vaguest  way  suspect  how  in- 
terested he  was — his  manner  was  so  deceptive.  Aileen 
imagined  that  she  was  the  superior  woman  of  the  two,  the 
better-looking,  the  better-dressed,  hence  the  more  ensnar- 
ing. She  could  not  guess  what  a  lure  this  woman's  tem- 
perament had  for  Cowperwood,  who  was  so  brisk,  dynamic, 
seemingly  unromantic,  but  who,  just  the  same,  in  his 
nature  concealed  (under  a  very  forceful  exterior)  a  deep 
underlying  element  of  romance  and  fire. 

"This  is  charming,"  he  said,  sinking  down  beside  Rita. 
"What  a  fine  evening  I  And  the  nice  straw  hat  with  the 
roses,  and  the  nice  linen  dress.  My,  my!"  The  roses  were 
red;  the  dress  white,  with  thin,  green  ribbon  run  throush 
it  here  and  there.  She  was  keenly  aware  of  the  reason  ror 
his  enthusiasm.  He  was  so  diflPerent  from  Harold,  so 
healthy  and  out-of-doorish,  so  able.  To-day  Harold  had 
been  in  tantrums  over  fate,  life,  his  lack  of  success. 

"Oh,  I  shouldn't  complain  so  much  if  I  were  you,"  she 
had  said  to  him,  bitterly.  "You  might  work  harder  and 
storm  less." 

This  had  produced  a  scene  which  she  had  escaped  by 

King  for  a  walk.  Almost  at  the  very  moment  when  she 
4  returned  Aileen  had  appeared.  It  waa  a  way  <mi^ 

12a 


A  NEW  AFFECTION 

She  had  cheered  up,  and  accepted,  dressed.  So  had  Sohl- 
berg.  Apparently  smiling  and  happy,  they  had  set  out  on 
the  dr  -e.  Now,  as  Cowperwood  spoke,  she  glanced  about 
her  contentedly.  ''I'm  lovely/'  she  th  -.ght,  ''and  he  loves 
me.  How  wonderful  it  would  be  if  we  dared.  But  she 
said  aloud:  "I'm  not  so  very  nice.  Its  just  the  day— 
don't  you  think  so?   It's  a  simple  dress.   I  m  not  very 

^^^^^haJ's^fhe  ^mattSr  he  Isked,  cheeringly,  the  rumble 
of  the  traffic  destropng  the  carrying-power  of  their  voices. 
He  leaned  toward  her,  very  anxious  to  solve  any  dilfaculty 
which  might  confront  her,  perfectly  willing  to 
by  kindness.  "Isn't  there  something  I  can  do?  We  re 
going  now  for  a  long  nde  to  the  pavilion  m  Tackson  Park, 
and  then,  after  dinner,  we'll  come  back  by  moonlight. 
Won't  that  be  nice?  You  must  be  smiling  now  and  like 
yourself— happy.  You  have  no  reason  to  be  otherwise 
that  I  know  of.  I  will  do  anythme  for  you  that  you  want 
done-that  can  be  done.  You  canTiave  anytl^'Sg  y°"  ,^1 
that  I  can  give  you.  What  is  it?  You  know  how  much  1 
think  of  you.  If  you  leave  your  afFairs  to  me  you  would 
never  have  any  troubles  of  any  kind. 

"Oh,  it  isn't  anything  you  can  do  — not  now,  any. 
how.    My  affairs!    Oh  yes.    What  are  they?  Very 
le  all " 

"'sL^'had  that  delicious  atmosphere  of  remoteness  even 
from  herself.   He  was  enchanted.         ^  j  «,fi.i„ 

"But  you  are  not  simple  to  me,  Rita,  he  said,  somy, 
"nor  are  your  affairs.  They  concern  me  very  much.  You 
are  so  important  to  me.  I  have  told  you  that.  .  Don't  you 
see  how  true  it  is?  You  are  a  strange  complexity  to  me- 
wonderful.  I'm  mad  over  you.  Ever  since  I  saw  you  last 
Fhave  been  thinking,  thinking.  ^  If  you  have  troubles  let 
me  share  them.  You  are  so  much  to.me-my  only  trouble. 
I  can  fix  your  life.   Join  it  with  mme.   I  need  you,  and 

'°"Ye"/'The'said,"Iknow."  Then  she  pau^.  "If. 
&othu|g  much,'^  she  went  on— 'just  a  quarrd. 

"Ove?  SIT  really."  The  mouth  was  ddicious.  "I 
can't  swing  the  censer  always,  as  you  say.     That  thougHt 

i»3 


THE  TITAN 

of  his  had  stuck.  "It's  all  right  now,  though.  Isn't  the 
day  lovely,  be-yoot-i-ful!" 

Cowperwood  looked  at  her  and  shook  his  head.  She  was 
such  a  treasure— so  inconsequential.  Aileen,  busy  driving 
and  talking,  could  not  see  or  hear.  She  was  interested  in 
bohlberg,  and  the  southward  crush  of  vehicles  on  Michigan 
Avenue  was  distracting  her  attention.  As  they  drove 
swiftly  past  budding  trees,  kempt  lawns,  fresh-made  flower- 
beds, open  windows— the  whole  seductive  worid  of  spring— 
lx)wperwood  felt  as  though  life  had  once  more  taken  a  fresh 
«tart.  His  magnetism,  if  it  had  been  visible,  would  have 
enveloped  him  like  a  glittering  aura.    Mrs.  Sohlberg  felt 

TT.    J-  "^^^  ^°  ''^  ^  wonderful  evening. 

Ti/r     I    j""^  Park— an  open-air  chicken  d  la 

Maryland  affair,  with  wa^es  and  champagne  to  help  out. 
Aileen,  flattered  by  Sohlberg's  gaiety  under  her  spell,  was 
having  a  delightful  time,  jesting,  toasting,  laughing,  walk- 
ing on  the  grass.  Sohlberg  was  making  love  to  her  in  a 
toohsh,  inconsequential  way,  as  many  men  were  inclined 
to  do;  but  she  was  putting  hi.n  off  gaily  with  "silly  boy" 
and  hush.  She  was  so  sure  of  herself  that  she  was  free 
to  tell  Cowperwood  afterward  how  emotional  he  was  and 
how  she  had  to  laugh  at  him.  Cowperwood,  quite  certain 
that  she  was  faithful,  took  it  all  in  good  part.  Sohlberg  was 
such  a  diince  and  such  a  happy  convenience  ready  to  his 
hand  He  c  not  a  bad  sort,'^  he  commented.  "I  rather 
like  him,  though  I  don  t  think  he's  so  much  of  a  violinist." 

Alter  dinner  they  drove  along  the  lake -shore  and 
out  through  an  open  bit  of  tree -blocked  prairie  "and. 
the  moon  shining  in  a  clear  sky,  filling  the  fields  and 
topping  the  lake  with  a  silvery  efl^ulgence.  Mrs.  Sohl- 
berg was  bemg  moculated  with  the  virus  Cowperwood. 
and  It  was  taking  deadly  efl^ect.  The  tendency  of  her 
own  disposition,  however  lethargic  it  might  seem,  once  it 
was  stirred  emotionally,  was  to  act.  She  was  essenrially 
dynamic  and  passionate.  Cowperwood  was  beginning  to 
stand  out  in  her  mind  as  the  force  that  he  was.  It  would 
be  wonderful  to  be  loved  by  such  a  man.  There  would  be 
an  eager,  vivid  life  between  them.  It  frightened  and  drew 
her  like  a  b  azing  lamp  in  the  dark.  To  get  control  of  heiw 
3elf  she  talked  of  art,  people,  of  Paris,  Italy,  and  he  n- 

124 


A  NEW  AFFECTION 

sponded  in  like  strain,  but  all  the  while  he  smoothed  her 
hand,  and  once,  under  the  shadow  of  some  trees,  he  put 
his  hand  to  her  hair,  turned  her  face,  and  put  his  mouth 
softly  to  her  cheek.  She  flushed,  trembled,  turned  pale, 
in  the  grip  of  this  strange  storm,  but  drew  herself  together. 
It  was  wonderful — heaven.  Her  old  life  was  obviously 
goine  to  pieces. 

"Cisten,**  he  said,  guardedly.  "Will  you  meet  me 
to-morrow  at  three  just  beyond  the  Rush  Street  bridge  ^ 
I  will  pick  you  up  promptly.  You  won't  have  to  wait  a 
moment." 

She  paused,  meditating,  dreaming,  almost  hypnotized  by 
his  strange  world  of  fancy. 

"Will  you?"  he  asked,  eagerly. 

"Wait,"  she  said,  softly.   "Let  me  think.  Canir 

She  paused. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  after  a  time,  drawing  in  a  deep  breath» 
"Yes" — ^as  if  she  had  arranged  somethmg  in  her  mind. 

"My  sweet,"  he  whisperra,  pressing  her  arm,  while  he 
looked  at  her  profile  in  the  moonlight. 

"But  I'm  doina  a  great  deal,"  Jie  replied,  softly,  a  iitde 
bieatUess  and  a  utde  pale. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


A  FATEFUL  INTERLUDE 


COWPERWOOD  was  enchanted.    He  kept  the  pro- 
posed  tryst  with  eagerness  and  found  her  all  that  he 
had  hoped.   She  was  sweeter,  more  colorful,  mote  elusive 
than  anybody  he  had  ever  known.    In  their  charmnur 
aparttnent  on  the  North  Side  which  he  at  once  engaged, 
and  where  he  sometimes  spent  mornings,  evenings,  after- 
noons, as  ooportunity  afforded,  he  studied  her  with  the 
niort  critical  eye  and  found  her  almost  flawless.   She  had 
that  boundless  value  which  youth  and  a  certain  insoudance 
ot  manner  contnbute.    There  was,  delicious  to  relate,  no 
melancholy  m  her  nature,  but  a  kind  of  innate  sufficiency 
which  neither  looked  forward  to  nor  back  upon  troublesome 
lils.   She  loved  beautiful  things,  but  was  not  extravagant; 
and  what  interested  htm  and  commanded  his  respect  was 
that  no  urgings  of  his  toward  prodigality,  however  subtly 
advanced,  could  affect  her.    She  knew  what  she  wanted, 
spent  carefully,  bought  tastefu  ly,  arrayed  herself  in  ways 
which  appealed  to  him  as  the  flowers  did.    His  feeling  for 
her  became  at  times  so  great  that  he  wished,  one  might 
a  most  have  said,  to  destroy  it-to  appease  the  urge  and 
allay  the  pull  m  himself,  but  it  was  useless.    The  charm  of 
her  endured.    His  transports  would  leave  her  refreshed 
apparently,  prettier,  more  graceful  than  ever,  it  seemed 
to  him.  putting  back  her  ruflBed  hair  with  her  hand,  mouth- 
uig  at  herself  prettily  m  the  glass,  thinking  of  many  remote 
delicious  things  at  once.  j  i.^ 

•ul'2.k^°j  remember  that  picture  we  saw  in  the  art  store 
the  other  day,  Algernon  ?"  she  would  drawl,  calling  him  by 
his  second  name,  which  she  had  adopted  for  herself  as 
bemg  more  suited  to  his  moods  when  with  her  and  more 
pieasmg  to  her.   Cowperwood  had  protested,  but  she  held 

ia6 


A  FATEFUL  INTERLUDE 

to  it.  "Do  you  remember  that  lovely  blue  of  the  old 
man's  coatr   (It  wat  an  "Adoration  of  the  Magi.'O 

"Wasn't  that  be-yoot-i-ful?" 

She  drawled  so  sweetly  and  fixed  her  mouth  in  such  an 
odd  way  that  he  was  impelled  to  kiss  her.  "You  clover 
blossom,"  he  would  say  to  her,  coming  over  and  taking  her 
by  the  arms.  "You  sprig  of  cherry  bloom.  You  Dresden 
china  dream.** 

"Now,  are  you  gdng  to  muM  my  hair,  wfaoi  I've  just 
managed  to  fix  it?* 

The  vmce  was  die  vmce  of  careless,  genial  tnnormcn — 
and  the  eyes. 

*'Ye8,  I  am,  minx." 

"Yes,  but  ymi  mustn't  smother  me,  you  know.  Really, 
you  know  you  almost  hurt  me  wiA  your  mouth.  Aren  t 

you  going  to  be  nice  to  me?" 
"Yes,  sweet.   But  I  want  to  hurt  yott,  too.** 
"Well,  then,  if  you  must." 

But  for  all  his  transports  the  lure  was  still  ^eie.  She 
was  like  a  butterfly,  he  thought,  yellow  and  white  ot  \AfMt 
and  gold,  fluttering  over  a  hedge  of  wild  rose. 

In  these  intimacies  it  was  that  he  came  quickly  to  under- 
stand  how  much  she  knew  of  social  movements  and  tend- 
encies, though  she  was  just  an  individual  of  the  outer  frin^. 
She  caueht  at  once  a  clear  understanding  of  his  soda!  pcmit 
of  view,  nis  art  ambition,  his  dreams  of  something  better  for 
himself  in  every  wav.  She  seemed  to  see  clearly  that  he  had 
not  as  yet  realized  himself,  that  Aileen  was  not  just  the 
woman  for  him,  though  she  might  be  one.  She  talked  of 
her  own  husband  after  a  time  in  a  tolerant  way — ^his  foibles, 
defects,  weaknesses.  She  was  not  imsjrmpathetic,  he 
thoueht,  just  weary  of  a  state  that  was  not  properly  bal- 
anced either  in  love,  ability,  or  insight.  Co^i^ytrwood  had 
suggested  that  die  could  take  a  larger  studra  for  herself 
and  Harold— do  away  with  the  petty  economies  that  had 
hampered  her  and  him — and  explain  it  all  on  the  grounds 
of  a  larger  generosity  on  d»  part  of  her  family.  At  first 
she  objected;  but  Cowperwood  was  tactful  and  finally 
brought  it  about.  He  again  suggested  a  little  while  later 
that  she  should  pmuade  Haroldto  go  to  Europe.  There 
would  be  the  same  ostensible  reason — additimal  means 

137 


THE  TITAN 

frwn  her  relatives.  Mn,  Sdilberg,  thus  urged,  petted, 
made  over,  assured,  came  finally  to  accept  his  liberal  rule — 
to  bow  to  him;  she  became  as  contented  as  a  cat.  With 
caution  she  accepted  of  his  largess,  and  made  the  cleverest 
use  of  it  she  could.  For  something  over  a  year  neither 
Sohlbeig  nor  Aileen  was  aware  of  the  intimacy  which 
r*^™"^  up.  Sohlbere,  easily  bamboozled,  went  back 
to  Denmark  for  a  visit,  then  to  study  in  Germany.  Mrs. 
Sohlberg  followed  Cowperwood  to  Europe  the  following 
year.  At  Aix-les-Bains,  Biarritz,  Paris,  even  London, 
Aileen  never  knew  that  there  was  an  additional  figure  in 
the  background.  Cowperwood  was  trained  by  Rita  into  a 
really  finer  point  of  view.  He  came  to  know  better  music, 
books,  even  the  facts.  She  encouraged  him  in  his  idea  of 
a  representative  collection  of  the  old  masters,  and  begged 
him  to  be  cautious  in  his  selection  of  modems.  He  Kit 
hmuelf  to  be  delightfully  situated  indeed. 

TTie  dfficulty  with  this  situation,  as  with  all  such  where 
an  individual  ventures  thus  bucaneeringly  on  the  sea  of 
sex,  IS  the  possibility  of  those  storms  which  result  from 
misplaced  confidence,  and  from  our  built-up  system  of 
ethics  relating  to  property  in  women.   To  Cowperwood, 
however,  who  was  a  law  unto  himself,  who  knew  no  law 
except  such  as  mi^t  be  imposed  upon  him  by  his  lack 
of  ability  to  think,  this  possibility  of  entanglement,  wrath, 
race,  pain,  ofifered  no  particular  obstacle.   It  was  not  at 
all  certain  that  any  such  thing  would  follow.   Where  the 
average  man  might  have  found  one  such  liaison  difficult 
to  manage,  Cowperwood,  as  we  have  seen,  had  previously 
entered  on  several  such  affairs  almost  simuhaneously;  and 
now  he  had  ventured  on  yet  another;  in  the  last  instance 
"Mth  much  greater  feeling  and  enthusiasm.    The  previous 
affairs  had  been  emotional  makeshifts  at  best— more  or 
less  idle  philanderings  in  which  his  deeper  moods  and  feel- 
v^s  were  not  concerned.    In  the  case  of  Mrs.  Sohlberg  all 
this  was  changed.    For  the  present  at  least  she  was  really 
aU  in  all  to  him.    But  this  temperamental  characteristic 
of  his  relating  to  his  love  of  women,  his  artistic  if  not 
emotional  subjection  to  their  beauty,  and  the  mystery  of 
their  personalities  led  him  into  still  a  further  ^air,  and 
this  last  was  not  so  fortunate  in  its  outcome. 

138 


A  FATEFUL  INTERLUDE 

Antoinette  Nowak  had  come  to  him  fresh  from  a  Weat 
Side  hi}  h  school  and  a  Chicago  business  college,  and  had 
been  er.eaged  as  his  private  stenographer  ana  secretary. 
This  girl  had  blossomed  forth  into  something  exceptional, 
as  American  children  of  foreign  parents  are  wcmt  to  do. 
You  would  have  scarcely  believed  that  she,  with  her  fine, 
lithe  bod]^>  her  good  taste  in  dress,  her  skill  in  stenography, 
bookkeeping,  and  business  detail^  could  be  the  dau^ter  of 
a  struggling  Pole,  who  had  first  worked  in  the  Southwest 
Chicago  Steel  Mills,  and  who  had  later  kept  a  fifth-rate 
cigar,  news,  and  stationery  store  in  the  Polish  district,  the 
merchandise  of  playing-cards  and  a  back  room  for  idling 
and  casual  gaming  being  the  principal  reasons  for  its 
existence,  /mtoinette,  miose  first  name  had  not  been 
Antoinette  at  all,  but  Minka  (the  Antoinette  having  been 
borrowed  by  her  from  an  article  in  one  of  the  Chicago 
Sunday  papers),  was  a  fine  dark,  brooding  girl,  ambitious 
and  hopeful,  who  ten  days  after  she  had  accepted  her  new 
place  was  admiring  Cowperwood  and  following  his  every 
daring  movement  almost  excited  interest.  To  be  the 
wife  of  such  a  man,  she  thought — to  even  conunand  his 
interest,  let  alone  his  affection — ;must  be  wonderful.  After 
the  dull  world  she  had  known — ^it  seemed  dull  compared  to 
the  upper,  rarefied  realms  which  she  was  beginning  to 
glimpse  through  him — and  after  the  average  men  in  die 
real-estate  office  over  the  way  where  she  had  first  worked, 
Cowperwood,  in  his  good  clothes,  his  remote  mood,  his  easy, 
commanding  manner,  touched  the  nKMt  ambitious  chords 
of  her  being.  One  day  she  saw  Aileen  sweep  in  from  her 
c  trriage,  wearing  warm  brown  furs,  smart  polished  boots, 
a  treet-sttit  of  corded  brown  wool,  and  a  fur  toque  sharpened 
and  emphasized  by  a  long  dark-red  feather  which  shot 
upward  like  a  dagger  or  a  quill  pen.  Antoinette  hated  her. 
She  conceived  herself  to  be  better,  or  as  good  at  least. 
Why  was  life  divided  so  unfairly  ?  What  sort  of  a  man  was 
Cowperwood,  anyhow?  One  night  after  she  had  written 
out  a  discreet  but  truthful  history  of  himself  which  he  had 
dictated  to  her,  and  which  she  had  sent  to  the  Chicago 
newspapers  for  him  soon  after  the  opening  of  his  brokerage 
office  in  Chicago,  she  went  liome  ami  dreamed  of  what  he 
had  told  her,  oily  altered,  of  course,  as  in  dreams.  She 
6  129 


THE  TITAN 

thought  that  Cowperwood  ttood  beside  her  in  his  handsome 
private  office  in  La  Salle  Street  and  asked  her: 

"Antoinette,  what  do  you  think  of  me?"  Antoinette 
was  nonplussed,  but  brave.  In  her  dream  she  found  her« 
lelf  intensely  interested  in  him. 

**Oh,  I  don't  know  what  to  think.  Fm  so  sorry,"  was 
her  answer.  Then  he  laid  his  hand  on  hers,  on  her 
cheek,  and  she  awoke.  She  began  thinking,  what  a  pity, 
what  a  shame  that  such  a  man  should  ever  have  been  m 
prison.  He  was  so  handsome.  He  had  been  married 
twice.  Perhaps  his  first  wife  was  very  homely  or  very 
mean-spirited.  She  thought  of  this,  and  the  next  da^ 
went  to  woric  meditarively.  Cowperwood,  engrossed  in  his 
own  plans,  was  not  thinking  of  ner  at  present.  He  was 
thinkme  of  the  next  moves  in  his  interesting  gas  war. 
And  AiTeen,  seeing  her  one  day,  merely  considered  her  an 
underling.  The  woman  in  business  was  such  a  novelty 
that  as  yet  she  was  declasse.  Aileen  really  thought  nothing 
of  Antoinette  at  all. 

Somewhat  over  a  year  a'te  awperwood  had  become 
intimate  with  Mrs.  Sohlberg  his  rather  practical  business 
relations  with  Antoinette  Nowak  took  on  a  more  intimate 
color.  What  shall  we  say  of  this — that  he  had  already 
wearied  of  Mrs.  Sohlberg?  Not  in  the  least.  He  was 
desperately  fond  of  her.  Or  thrr  he  despised  Aileen, 
whom  he  was  thus  grossly  decei  ig?  Not  at  all.  She 
was  to  him  at  times  as  attractiv-  as  ever — perhaps  more 
so  for  the  :  ;ason  that  her  self-imadned  rights  were 
beine  thus  roughly  infringed  upon.  He  was  sorry  for 
her,  out  inclined  to  justify  himself  on  the  ground  that 
these  other  relations — with  possibly  the  exception  of 
Mrs.  Sohlberg — were  not  enduring.  If  it  had  been  possible 
to  marry  Mrs.  Sohlberg  he  might  have  done  so,  ana  he  did 
speculate  at  times  as  to  whether  anything  would  ever  induce 
Aileen  to  leave  him;  but  this  was  more  or  less  idle  specula- 
tK»i.  He  rather  fancied  they  would  live  out  their  da3rs 
together,  seeing  that  he  was  able  thus  easily  to  deceive  her. 
But  as  for  a  girl  like  Antoinette  Nowak,  she  figured  in 
that  braided  symphony  of  mere  sex  attraction  which 
somehow  makes  up  that  geometric  formula  of  beauty  which 
rules  the  world.    She  was  charming  in  a  dark  way,  beaud- 

130 


A  FATEFUL  INTERLUDE 

ful,  with  eyes  that  burned  with  an  unsatisfied  fire;  and 
Cowperwood,  although  at  first  only  in  the  least  moved  by 
her,  Wame  by  degrees  interested  in  her,  .  ^ndering  it  tbe 
amazing,  tnmdbnmng  power  ct  the  American  atmos- 
phere. 

"Are  your  parents  English,  Antoinette?"  he  asked  her, 
one  morning,  with  that  easy  familiarity  which  he  assumed 
to  all  underlings  and  minor  mtellects — an  air  that  could  not 
resoited  in  him,  and  which  was  usually  accepted  as  « 
compliment. 

Antoinette,  clean  and  fresh  in  a  white  shirtwaist,  a 
blade  walking-skirt,  a  ribbon  of  black  velvet  about  her 
neck,  and  her  long,  black  hair  laid  in  a  heavy  braid  low 
over  her  forehead  and  held  close  by  a  white  celluloid  comb, 
looked  at  him  with  pleased  and  grateful  eyes.  She  had 
been  used  to  such  different  types  of  men — the  earnest,  fieiy, 
excitable,  sometimes  drunken  and  swearing  men  of  he? 
childhood,  always  striking,  marchine,  praying  in  the 
Catholic  churches;  and  then  the  mm  of  the  business  world, 
crazy  over  money,  and  with  qo  undostanduq;  of  anything 
save  some  few  facts  about  Chicajgo  and  its  momentary 
possibilities.  In  Cowperwood's  office,  taking  his  letters 
and  hearing  him  talk  in  his  quick,  eenial  way  with  old 
Laughlin,  Sippens,  and  others,  she  hadleamed  more  of  life 
than  she  had  ever  dreamed  existed.  He  was  like  a  vast 
opoB  wtedow  out  of  whidi  she  was  loddng  upoo  an  al- 
most illimitable  landscape. 

**No,  sir,"  'he  replied,  dropping  her  slim,  firm,  white 
hand,  holding  a  black  lead-pencil  restfuUy  on  her  note- 
book. She  smiled  quite  innottntijr  because  At  was 
pleased.  ... 

*'I  thought  not,**  he  said,  "and  yet  you're  American 
enough." 

"I  don't  know  how  it  is,"  she  said,  quite  solemnly.  **I 
have  a  brother  who  is  cjuite  as  Amencan  as  I  am.  We 
don't  either  of  us  look  like  our  father  or  mother." 

"What  does  your  brother  do?"  he  asked,  indiffer- 
ently. 

"He's  one  of  the  weighers  at  Ameel  &  Co.   He  expects 
to  be  a  manager  somedme."   She  smiled. 
Qwfpeiwood  looked  at  her  speculatively,  and  afier  a 

131 


THE  TITAN 

momentary  return  glance  she  dropped  her  eyes.  Slowly, 
in  spite  of  herself,  a  telltale  flush  rose  and  mantled  her 
brown  cheeks.    It  always  did  when  he  looked  at  her. 

"Take  this  letter  to  General  Van  Sickle,"  he  began,  on  this 
occasion  quite  helpfully,  and  in  a  few  minutes  she  had  recov- 
ered. She  could  not  be  near  Cowperwood  for  long  at  a  tune, 
however,  without  being  stirred  by  a  feeling  which  was  not 
of  her  own  willing.  He  fascinated  and  suffused  her  with 
a  dull  fire.  She  sometimes  wondered  whether  a  man  to 
remarkable  would  ever  be  interested  in  a  girl  like  her. 

The  end  of  this  essential  interest,  of  course,  was  the 
eventual  assumption  of  Antoinette.  One  might  go  through 
all  the  dissolving  details  of  days  in  which  she  sat  taking 
dictation,  receiving  instructions,  going  about  her  office 
duties  in  a  state  of  apparently  chill,  practical,  commercial 
single-mindedness;  but  it  would  be  to  no  j>urpose.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  without  in  any  way  affectmg  the  precise- 
ness  and  accuracy  of  her  labor,  her  thoughts  were  always 
upon  the  man  in  the  inner  office — the  strange  master  who 
was  then  seeing  his  nien,  and  in  between,  so  it  seemed,  a 
whole  world  of  individuals,  solemn  and  commercial,  who 
came,  presented  their  cards,  talked  at  times  almost  inter- 
minably, and  went  away.  It  was  the  rare  individual,  how- 
ever»  sne  observed,  who  had  the  long  conversation  with 
Cowperwood,  and  that  interested  her  the  more.  His  in- 
structions to  her  were  always  of  the  briefest,  and  he  de- 
pended on  her  nati^'e  intelligence  to  supply  much  that  he 
scarcely  more  than  suggested. 

I^You  understand,  do  you?**  was  his  custmnary  phrase. 

"Yes,"  she  would  reply. 

She  felt  as  though  she  were  fifty  times  as  significant  here 
as  she  had  ever  been  in  her  life  before. 

The  office  was  clean,  hard,  bright,  like  G)wperwood  him- 
self. The  morning  sun,  streaming  in  through  an  almost  solid 
glass  east  front  shaded  by  pale-green  roller  curtains,  came 
to  have  an  almost  romantic  atmosp'  '■e  for  her.  Cowper- 
wood's  private  office,  as  in  Hiiladelp  -  a,  was  a  solid  cherry- 
wood  box  in  which  he  could  shut  himself  completely — sight- 
proof,  sound-proof.  When  the  door  was  closed  it  was 
sacrosanct.  He  made  it  a  rule,  sensibly,  to  kee^  his  door 
open  as  much  as  possible,  even  whoi  be  was  dictating*  aome- 

13* 


I  \ 


A  FATEFUL  INTERLUDE 

times  not.  It  was  in  these  half-hours  of  dictation — the  door 
open,  as  a  rule,  for  he  did  not  care  for  too  much  privacy— 
that  he  and  Misi  Nowak  came  closest.  After  months  and 
months,  and  because  he  had  been  busy  with  the  other 
woman  menrimied,  of  whtHn  she  knew  nothing,  me  came 
to  enter  sometimes  with  a  sense  of  suffocation,  sometimes 
of  maidenly  shame.  It  would  never  have  occurred  to  her 
to  admit  frankly  that  she  wanted  Cowperwood  to  make 
love  to  her.  It  would  have  frightened  her  to  have  thought 
of  herself  as  yielding  easily,  and  yet  there  was  not  a  detail 
of  his  personality  that  was  not  now  burned  in  her  brain. 
His  li^ht,  thick,  always  smoothly  parted  hair,  his  wide, 
clear,  mscrutable  eyes,  his  carefully  manicured  hands,  so 
full  and  firm,  his  fresh  clothing  of  delicate,  intricate  pat- 
terns—how these  fascinated  hrr'  He  seemed  always  re- 
mote except  just  at  the  moment  of  doin^  something,  when, 
curiously  enough,  he  seemed  intensely  mtimate  and  .  ; 

One  day,  after  many  exchanges  of  glances  in  which 
own  always  fell  sharply — in  the  midst  of  a  letter— he  arew 
and  closed  the  half-open  door.  She  did  not  think  so  much 
of  that,  as  a  rule— it  had  happened  before— but  now,  to-day, 
because  of  a  studied  glance  ne  had  given  her,  neitiicr  tenmr 
nor  smiling,  she  felt  as  though  something  unusual  were 
about  to  happen.  Her  own  body  was  eoin^ot  and  cold  by 
turns— her  neck  and  hands.  She  had  a  fine  figure,  finer 
than  she  realized,  with  shapely  limbs  and  torso.  Her  head 
had  some  of  the  sharpness  of  the  old  Greek  coinage,  and 
her  hair  was  plaited  as  in  ancient  cut  stone.  Cowperwood 
noted  it.  He  came  back  and,  without  taking  bis  seat,  bent 
over  her  and  intimately  took  her  hand. 

"Antoinette,"  he  said,  lifting  her  gently. 

She  looked  up,  then  arose— for  he  slowly  drew  her— 
breathless,  the  color  gone,  much  of  the  capable  practicality 
that  was  hers  completely  eliminaied.  She  felt  limp,  inert. 
She  pulled  at  her  hand  faintly,  and  then,  Ufting  her  eyes,  was 
fixed  by  that  hard,  insatiable  gaze  of  his.  Her  head  twam — 
her  eyes  were  filled  with  a  telltale  confuttOB. 

"Antoinette!" 

"Yes,"  she  murmured. 

"You  love  me,  don't  you?" 

She  tri^  to  pull  herself  together,  to  inject  some  of  her 

133 


THE  TITAN 

nathre  rigidity  of  soul  into  her  aii^-diat  rieidity  which  she 
always  imagined  would  never  desert  her — But  it  was  gone. 
There  came  instead  to  her  a  picture  of  the  far  Blue  Island 
Avenue  neigliborhood  from  ^Hiidi  she  «nanated— its  km 
brown  cottages,  and  then  this  smart,  hard  office  and  this 
strong  man.  He  came  out  of  such  a  marvelous  world* 
apparently.  A  strange  foaming  seemed  to  be  in  her  blood. 
She  was  deliriously,  <Mlidoiudy  numb  and  h^ppy, 
"Antoinette!" 

*'0h,  I  don't  know  what  I  think,"  she  gasped.  "I— 
Oh  yes,  I  do,  I  do." 

"I  like  your  name,"  he  said,  simply.  "Antoinette." 
And  thai,  pulling  her  to  him,  he  slipped  ms  aim  about  her 
waist. 

She  was  frightened,  numb,  and  then  suddenly,  not  so 
much  from  diame  as  shock,  tears  rushed  to  her  eyes.  She 
turned  and  put  her  hand  on  the  desk  and  hung  her  head 
and  sobbed. 

"Why,  Antoinette,"  he  asked,  gently,  bending  over  her, 
"are  you  «o  much  unused  to  the  world?  I  thought  you 
said  you  loved  me.  Do  ymi  want  me  to  forget  all  this  and 
go  on  as  before  ?   I  can,  of  course,  if  you  can,  you  know." 

He  knew  that  she  loved  him,  wanted  him. 

She  heard  him  plainly  enough,  shaking. 
'Do  you ?"  he  sat<^  i^ter  a  tune,  pviag  hu  nmnents  in 
which  to  recover. 

"Oh,  fet  me  cry!"  she  recovered  herself  sufficiently  to  say, 
quite  wildly.  "I  don't  know  why  I'm  crying.  It's  just 
because  I'm  nervous,  I  suppose.  Please  dont  mind  me 
now." 

"Ant(Mnette,"  he  repeated,  "look  at  me!  Will  you 

stop?" 

'  Oh  no,  not  now.    My  eyes  are  so  bad." 

"Antoinette!  Come,  look!"  He  put  his  hand  under 
her  chin.    "See,  I'm  not  so  terrible." 

"Oh,"  she  said,  when  her  eyes  net  his  again,  "I — " 
And  then  she  folded  her  arms  against  his  breast  while  he 
petted  her  hand  and  held  her  close. 

"I'm  not  so  bad,  Antoinette.  It's  you  at  mudb  as  it  is 
me.  You  do  love  me,  then?" 

•*Yes,yes-ohyesP^ 

1)4 


A  FATEFUL  INTERLUDE 

"  And  you  don't  mind  ?" 

"No.   It's  all  so  strange.**   H«  r?.ce  waw  luadcii. 

"Kiss  me,  then." 

She  put  up  her  lips  and  slipped  her  arms  about  him. 
He  held  her  close.  .  .   t.  l 

He  tried  teasingly  to  make  her  say  why  she  cned,  think- 
ing the  while  of  what  Aileen  or  Rita  would  think  if  thejr 
knew,  but  she  would  not  at  first^admitting  later  that  it 
was  a  sense  of  evil.  Curiously  she  alio  thought  of  Aileen, 
and  how,  on  occasion,  she  had  aeen  her  fweep  in  and  out. 
Now  she  was  sharing  with  her  (the  dashing  Mrs.  Cowper- 
wood,  so  vain  and  superior)  the  wonder  of  his  affecaon. 
Strange  as  it  may  seem,  she  kx^ed  on  it  now  at  nAer  aa 
honor.  She  had  risen  in  her  own  estimation — ^her  sense 
of  life  and  power.  Now,  more  than  ever  before,  she  knew 
•omediing  of  USe  because  die  knew  aom^hing  of  love  and 
passion.  The  future  seemed  tremulous  with  promise.  She 
went  back  to  Iitr  machine  after  a  while,  thmking  of  ^is. 
What  wcrald  it  all  come  to?  die  wondered,  wildly.  Yen 
could  not  have  told  by  her  eves  that  she  had  been  crvmg. 
Instead,  a  rich  ^ow  in  her  brown  cheeks  heightened  her 
beauty.  No  dicturbing  lenae  oi  Aileen  waa  involved  with 
all  this.  Antoinette  was  of  the  newer  order  that  was  b^n* 
ning  to  privately  question  ethics  and  morals.  She  had  a 
rig^it  to  her  life,  lead  where  it  wouMI.  And  to  what  it 
would  bring  her.  The  feel  of  Cowperwood's  lips  was  stiU 
fresh  on  here.  What  would  the  future  reveal  to  her  nowr 
What? 


CHAPTER  XVII 


AN  OVERTURE  TO  CONFLICT 

THE  result  of  this  understanding  was  not  so  important 
to  Cowperwood  as  it  was  to  Antoinette.  In  a  vag- 
rant mood  ne  had  unlocked  a  spirit  here  which  was  fiery, 
passionate,  but  in  his  case  hopelessly  worshipful.  How- 
ever much  she  might  be  grieved  by  him,  Antomette,  as  he 
subsequently  learned,  would  never  sin  against  his  personsd 
wdfare.  Yet  she  was  unwittingly  the  means  of  first  open- 
ing the  flood-gates  of  suspicion  on  Aileen,  thereby  estab- 
luning  in  the  Tatter's  mind  fact  <^  Cowpem  nod's  per* 
sistent  unfaithfulness. 

The  incidents  which  led  up  to  this  were  comparatively 
trivial — ^nothing  more,  indeed,  at  first  than  the  sig!*t  of  Miss 
Nowak  and  G>wperwood  talking  intimately  in  his  office  one 
afternoon  when  the  others  had  gone  and  the  fact  that  she 
appeared  to  be  a  little  bit  disturbed  by  Aileen's  arrival. 
Later  came  the  discovery — though  of  this  Aileen  could  not 
be  absolutely  sure — of  G>wperwood  and  Antoinette  in  a 
closed  carriage  one  stormy  November  afternoon  in  State 
Street  when  he  was  supposed  to  be  out  of  the  city.  She 
was  coming  out  of  Merrill's  store  at  the  rime,  and  just 
happened  to  glance  at  the  passing  vehicle,  which  was  running 
near  the  curb.  Aileen,  although  uncertain,  was  greatly 
shocked.  Could  it  he  possible  niat  he  had  not  left  town? 
She  journeyed  to  his  office  on  the  pretext  of  taking  old 
Laughlin's  dog,  Jennie,  a  pretty  collar  she  had  found; 
actually  to  find  if  Antoinette  were  away  at  the  same  time. 
Could  it  be  possible,  she  kept  asking  herself,  that  Cowper- 
wood had  become  interested  in  his  own  stenographer?  The 
fact  diat  the  office  assumed  that  he  was  out  <»  town  and 
that  Antoinette  was  not  there  gave  her  pause.  Laughlin 
quite  innocently  informed  her  that  he  thought  Miss  Nowak 


AN  OVERTURE  TO  CONFLICT 


had  gone  to  one  of  die  libraries  to  make  up  certain  reports. 

It  left  her  in  doubt. 

What  was  Aileen  to  think?  Her  moods  and  aspirations 
were  linked  so  closely  with  the  love  and  success  of  Cowper- 
wood  that  she  could  not,  in  spite  of  herself,  but  take  fire  at 
the  least  thought  of  losing  him.  He  himself  wondered  some- 
times, as  he  threaded  the  mesh-like  paths  of  sex,  what  she 
would  do  once  she  discovered  his  variant  conduct.  Indeed, 
there  had  been  little  occasional  squabbles,  not  sharp,  but 
suggestive,  when  he  was  trifling  about  with  Mrs.  Kittndge, 
Mrs.  Ledwell,  and  others.  There  were,  as  may  be  imagined, 
from  time  to  time  absences,  brief  and  unimportant,  which  he 
explained  easily,  passional  indifferences  which  were  not  «- 
plained  so  easilv,  and  the  like;  but  since  his  affections  were 
not  really  involved  in  any  of  those  instances,  he  had  man- 
aged to  smooth  the  matter  over  quite  nicely. 

"Why  do  you  say  that?"  he  would  demand,  when  she 
sunested,  apropos  of  a  trip  or  a  day  when  she  had  not  been 
yimn  hini,  that  there  might  have  been  another.  "You 
know  there  hasn't.  If  I  am  going  in  for  that  sort  of  thiiu 
you'll  learn  it  fast  enough.  Even  if  I  did,  it  wouldn^ 
mean  that  I  was  unfaithful  to  you  spiritually." 

"Oh,  wouldn't  it?"  exclaimed  Aileen,  resentfully,  and 
with  some  disturbance  of  spirit.  "  WdL  yon  can  keep  your 
spiritual  faithfulness.  Vm  not  gmng  to  be  ooi^tt  wxk  aay 
sweet  thoughts." 

Cowperwood  laughed  even  as  she  laughed,  for  he  knew 
she  was  right  and  he  felt  sorry  for  her.  At  the  same  time 
her  biting  numor  pleased  him.  He  knew  that  she  did  not 
really  suspect  him  of  actual  infidelity;  he  was  obviously 
so  fond  of  her.  But  she  also  knew  that  he  was  innately 
attractive  to  women,  and  that  there  were  enough  of  the 

Ehilandering  type  to  want  to  lead  him  astray  and  make 
er  life  a  burden.  Also  that  he  mi^t  prove  a  wiUtng 
victim. 

Sex  desire  and  its  fruition  being  such  an  inti^al  factor 
in  the  marriage  and  every  other  sex  relation,  the  average 
woman  is  prone  to  study  the  periodic  manifestations  that 
go  widi  it  quite  as  one  dependent  on  the  weather— ^a  sailor, 
for  example — might  study  the  barometer.  In  this  Aileen 
was  no  exception.   She  was  so  beautiful  herself,  and  had 

137 


THE  TITAN 

been  so  much  to  G>wperwood  physically,  that  she  had 
followed  dw  corresponding  evidences  of  feeline  in  him 
with  the  utmost  interest,  accepting  the  recurring  ebullitions 
of  his  physical  emotions  as  an  evidence  of  her  own  enduring 
diarm.  As  time  went  on,  however — and  that  was  long 
before  Mrs.  Sohlberg  or  any  one  else  had  appeared — the 
original  flare  of  passion  had  undergone  a  form  of  subsidence, 
though  not  noticeable  enough  to  be  disturbing.  Aileen 
thought  and  thought,  but  she  did  not  investigate.  Indeed, 
because  of  the  precariousness  of  her  own  situation  as  a 
social  failure  she  was  afraid  to  do  so. 

With  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Sohlberg  and  then  of  Antoinette 
Nowak  as  factors  in  the  potpourri,  the  situation  became 
more  difficult.  Humanly  fond  of  Aileen  as  Cowperwood 
was,  and  because  of  his  lapses  and  her  affection,  desirous 
of  being  kind,  yet  for  the  time  being  he  was  alienated 
almost  completely  from  her.  *  He  grew  remote  according 
as  his  clandestine  affairs  were  driftmg  or  blazing,  without, 
however,  losing  his  firm  grip  on  his  financial  sAairs,  and 
Aileen  noticed  it.  It  worried  her.  She  was  so  vain  that 
she  could  scarcely  believe  that  Cowperwood  could  long  be 
indifferent,  and  for  a  ^ile  her  sentimental  interest  in 
Sohlberg's  future  and  unhappiness  of  soul  beclouded  her 
judgment;  but  she  finally  began  to  feel  the  drift  of  affairs. 
Hie  pathoi  of  all  this  is  that  it  so  quickly  descends  into  the 
realm  of  the  unsatisfactory,  the  banal,  the  pscudo  intimate. 
Aileen  noticed  it  at  once.  She  tried  protestations.  "You 
don't  kiss  me  the  way  you  did  once,"  and  then  a  little  later, 
"You  haven't  noticed  me  hardly  for  four  whde  days. 
What's  the  matter?" 

"(Ml,  I  don't  know,"  replied  Conroerwood,  easily;  **I 
guess  I  want  vou  as  much  as  ever.  1  don't  see  that  I  am 
any  different. '  He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  petted  and 
caressed  her;  but  Aileen  was  suspicious,  nervous. 

The  psychology  of  the  human  animal,  when  confronted 
by  these  tangles,  these  ripping  tides  of  the  heart,  has  little 
to  do  with  so-called  reason  or  logic.  It  is  amazing  how  in 
the  face  of  passion  and  the  affections  and  the  changing  face 
of  life  all  plans  and  theories  by  which  we  guide  ourselves 
fall  to  the  ground.  Here  was  Aileen  talking  bravely  at 
the  time  the  invaded  Mrs.  Lillian  Cowperwiwd's  domain 


AN  OVERTURE  TO  CONFLICT 

of  the  necessity  of  "her  Frank"  finding  a  woman  suitable 
to  his  needs,  tastes,  abilities,  but  now  that  the  possibility 
of  another  woman  equally  or  possibly  better  suited  to  him 
was  looming  in  the  ofling — although  she  had  no  idea  who 
it  might  b^-fhe  could  not  reason  in  the  same  way.  Her 
ox,  God  wot,  was  the  one  that  was  being  gored,  " 
he  should  find  some  one  whom  he  could  want  more  than  he 
did  her?  Dear  heaven,  how  terrible  that  would  be  I  What 
would  she  do?  she  asked  herself,  thoughtfully.  She  lapsed 
into  the  blues  one  afternoon — almost  cried — she  could 
scarcely  say  why.  Another  time  she  thought  of  all  the 
terrible  things  she  would  do,  how  difficult  she  would  make 
it  for  any  other  woman  who  invaded  her  preserves.  How- 
ever, she  was  not  sure  Would  she  declare  war  if  she  dis- 
covered another?  She  knew  she  would  eventually;  and 
yet  she  knew,  too,  that  if  she  did,  and  Cowperwood  were 
set  in  his  passion,  thoroughly  alienated,  it  would  do  no 
good.  It  would  be  terrible,  but  what  could  she  do  to  win 
him  back?  That  was  the  issue.  Once  warned,  however, 
by  her  suspicious  questioning,  Cowpeprood  was  more  me- 
chanically attentive  than  ever.  He  did  his  best  to  conceal 
his  altered  mood — his  enthusiasms  for  Mrs.  Sohlberg,  his 
interest  in  Antoinette  Nowak — and  this  helped  somewfaa^ 
But  finally  there  was  a  detectable  change.  Aileen  noticed 
it  first  after  they  had  been  back  from  Europe  nearlv  a  year. 
At  this  time  she  was  still  interested  in  Sotilberg,  but  in  a 
harmlessly  flirtatious  way.  She  thought  he  niigfat  be 
interesting  physically,  but  would  he  be  as  delightful  as 
Cowperwood?  Never!  When  she  felt  that  Cowperwood 
himself  might  be  changing  she  pulled  herwlf  up  «  onc^ 
and  when  Antoinette  appeared— the  carriage  mcident — 
Sohlberg  lost  his,  at  best,  unstable  charm.  She  began  to 
meditate  on  what  a  terrible  thing  it  would  be  to  lose  Cow- 
perwood, seeing  that  she  had  failed  to  establish  herself 
socially.  Perhaps  that  had  something  to  do  with  his 
defection.  No  doubt  it  had.  Yet  she  could  not  believe, 
after  all  his  protestations  of  affection  in  Philadelphia,  after 
all  her  devotion  to  him  in  those  dark  days  of  his  degrada- 
tion and  puni^moit,  that  he  would  really  turn  on  he^ 
No,  he  might  stray  momentarily,  but  it  she  protested 
enough,  made  a  scene,  perhaps,  he  would  not  feel  so  free  to 

139 


THE  TITAN 

injure  her — he  would  remember  and  be  lovine  and  devoted 
again.  After  seeing  him,  or  imagining  she  had  seen  him, 
in  the  carriage,  she  thought  at  first  that  she  would  question 
him,  but  later  decided  that  she  would  wait  and  watch  more 
dotely.  Perhaps  he  was  beginninf^  to  run  around  with 
other  women.  There  was  safety  m  numbers — ^that  she 
knew.   Her  heart,  her  pride,  was  hurt,  but  not  broken. 


OIAPTER  XVm 


THE  CLASH 


HE  peculiar  personality  of  Rita  Sohlberg  was  such 


Eicion,  or  rather  distracted  it.  Although  a  novice,  she 
ad  a  strange  ease,  couraget  or  balance  of  soul  which  kept 
her  whole  and  self-possMsed  under  die  most  trying  of 
circumstances.  She  might  have  been  overtaken  in  the  most 
compromising  of  positions*  but  her  manner  would  always 
have  indicated  ease,  a  sense  of  innocence,  nothing  unuMudf 
for  she  had  no  sense  of  moral  degradation  in  this  matter — 
no  troublesome  emotion  as  to  what  was  to  flow  from  a 
relatkm^if)  dP  diis  kind,  no  worry  as  to  her  own  soul,  sin, 
social  opinion,  or  the  like.  She  was  really  interested  in 
art  and  life  —  a  pagrin,  in  fact.  Some  people  are  thus 
hardily  equipped.  It  is  the  most  notable  attribute  of  the 
hardier  type  of  personalities — not  necessarily  the  most 
brilliant  or  successful.  You  might  have  said  «iat  her  soul 
was  naively  unconsdoui  of  the  agtmy  of  others  in  Iom.  She 
would  have  taken  any  loss  to  herself  with  an  amazing 
equableness — some  aualms,  of  course,  but  not  many — be- 
cause her  vanity  ana  sense  of  charm  would  have  made  her 


She  had  called  on  Aileen  quite  regularly  in  the  past,  with 
or  without  Harold,  and  had  frequently  driven  with  the 
Cowperwoods  or  joined  them  at  the  theater  or  elsewhere. 
She  had  decided,  after  becoming  intimate  with  Cowper- 
wood,  to  study  art  again,  which  was  a  charming  blind,  for 
it  called  for  attendance  at  afternoon  or  evenmg  classes 
which  she  frequently  skipped.  Besides,  since  Haroid  had 
more  money  ne  was  becoming  gayer,  more  reckless  and 
enthusiastic  over  women,  and  Cowperwood  deliberately 
advised  her  to  encourage  him  m  watt  Itattoii  wfcidi»ai  can 


action  she  ordinarily  ulayed  su^ 


141 


THE  TITAN 


exposure  should  subsequoitly  a»ne  to  them,  would  effec- 
tually tie  his  hands. 

"Let  him  get  in  srnne  affair,"  Cowperwood  tdd  Rita. 
"We'll  put  detectives  on  hi*  trail  and  yet  evideiiM.  He 
won't  have  a  word  to  say.** 

**  We  don't  really  need  to  do  that,**  she  protested  sweetly, 
naively.  "He's  been  in  enough  scrapes  as  it  is.  He's  given 
me  some  of  the  letters — "  (she  pronounced  it  "  lettans  ") 
— "  written  him." 

"But  we'll  need  actual  witnesses  if  we  ever  need  an3rthing 
at  all.  Just  tell  me  when  he's  in  love  again,  and  I'll  do  the 
rest.*' 

"You  know  I  think,"  she  drawled,  amusingly,  "that  he  is 
now.  I  saw  him  on  the  street  the  other  day  with  one  of  his 
students — ^rather  a  pretty  girl,  too." 

Cowperwood  was  pleased.  Under  the  circumstances  he 
would  almost  have  been  willing — not  quite — for  Aileen  to 
succumb  to  Sohlbere  in  order  to  entrap  her  and  make  his 
situation  secure,  ^t  he  really  did  not  wish  it  in  the  last 
analysis — ^would  have  been  grieved  temporarily  if  she  had 
deserted  him.  However,  in  the  case  of  Sohlberg,  detectives 
were  employed,  the  new  affair  with  the  flighty  pupil  was 
unearthed  and  sworn  to  by  witnesses,  and  this,  combined 
with  the  "lettahs"  held  by  Rita,  constituted  ample  material 
wherewith  to  "hush  up'  the  musician  if  ever  he  became 
unduly  obstreperous.  So  Cowperwood  and  Rita*8  state  was 
quite  comfortable. 

^  But  Aiieeuj  meditating  over  Antoinette  Nowak,  was  be- 
side herself  with  curiosity,  doubt,  worry.  She  did  not  want 
to  injure  Cowperwood  m  any  way  after  his  bitter  Phila- 
delphia experience,  and  yet  when  she  thought  of  his  desert- 
ing her  in  this  way  she  fell  into  a  great  rage.  Her  vanity, 
as  much  as  her  love,  was  hurt.  What  could  she  do  to 
justify  or  set  at  rest  her  suspicions  ?  Watch  him  personally  ? 
She  was  too  dignified  and  vain  to  lurk  about  street-comers 
or  offices  or  hotels.  Never!  Start  a  quarrel  without 
additional  evidence — that  would  be  silly.  He  was  too 
shrewd  to  give  her  further  evidence  once  she  spoke.  He 
would  merely  deny  it.  She  brooded  irritably,  recalling 
after  a  time,  and  with  an  aching  heart,  that  her  father 
had  pot  detectivet  cm  her  track  once  tra  yean  b^at, 

142 


THE  CLASH 

and  had  actually  discovered  her  relations  with  Cowpenvood 
and  tiieir  rendezvous.  Bitter  as  that  memory  was— tortur- 
ing— ^yet  now  the  same  means  seemed  not  too  abhorrent 
to  employ  under  the  circumstances.  No  harm  had  come 
to  Cowperwood  in  the  former  instance,  she  reasoned  to 
herself— no  especial  harm— from  that  discovery  (this  was 
not  true),  and  none  would  come  to  him  now.  (This  also 
was  not  true.)  But  one  must  forgive  a  fiery,  passionate 
soul,  wounded  to  the  quick,  some  errors  of  judgment.^  Her 
thought  was  that  she  would  first  be  sure  just  imait  it 
her  beloved  was  doing,  and  then  decide  what  course  to  take. 
But  she  knew  that  she  was  treading  on  dangerous  ground, 
and  mentally  she  recoiled  from  the  consequences  wiidi 
might  follow.  He  might  leave  her  if  she  fought  him  too 
bitterly.  He  might  treat  her  as  he  had  treated  his  first 
wife,  Lillian. 

She  studied  her  liege  lord  curiously  these  days,  wonder- 
ing if  it  were  true  that  he  had  deserted  her  already,  as  he 
had  deserted  his  first  wife  thirteen  years  before,  wondenng 
if  he  could  really  take  up  with  a  girl  as  common  as  An- 
toine:ce  Nowak — ^wondenng,  wondering,  wondering — half 
afraid  and  yet  courageous.  What  could  be  done  with 
him  ?   If  only  he  still  loved  her  all  would  be  well  yet— but 

The  detective  agency  to  which  she  finally  applied,  after 
weeks  of  soul-racking  suspense,  was  one  of  those  disturb- 
ingly human  implements  which  many  are  not  opposed  to 
usmg  on  occasion,  when  it  is  the  only  means  of  solymg 
a  troublous  problem  of  wounded  feelmgs  or  jeopardized 
interests.  All  ieen,  being  obviously  rich,  was  fordiwidi 
shamefully  overcharged;  but  the  services  agreed  upon  were 
well  performed.  To  her  amazement,  chagnn,  and  distress, 
after  a  few  weeks  of  observation  Cowperwood  was  reported 
to  have  affairs  not  only  with  Antoinette  Nowak,  whom  she 
did  suspect,  but  also  with  Mrs.  Sohlberg.  And  these  two 
affairs  at  one  and  die  same  time.  For  the  mmnent  it  left 
Aileen  actually  stunned  and  breathless. 

The  significance  of  Rita  Sohlberg  to  her  in  this  hour  was 
greater  than  Aat  of  any  woman  before  or  after.  Of  all 
living  things,  women  dread  women  most  of  all,  and  <rf  all 
women  the  clever  and  beauriful.   Rita  Sohlberg  had  bcoi 

143 


THE  TITAN 

f rowing  on  Aileen  as  a  personage,  for  she  had  ob^'iously 
een  protpering  during  this  past  year,  and  her  beauty 
had  been  amazingly  enhanced  thereby.  Once  Aileen  had 
encountered  Rita  in  a  light  trap  on  the  Avenue,  very  hand- 
tome  and  very  new,  and  she  had  commented  on  it  to  Cow- 
perwood,  whose  reply  had  been:  "Her  father  must  be 
making  some  money.  Sohlberg  could  never  earn  it  for 
her." 

Aileen  sympathized  with  Harold  because  of  his  tempera- 
ment, but  she  knew  that  what  Cowperwood  said  was  true. 

Another  time,  at  a  box-party  at  the  theater,  she  had 
noted  the  rich  elaborateness  of  Mrs.  Sohlberg's  dainty 
frock,  the  endless  pleatings  of  pale  silk,  the  startling  charm 
of  the  needlework  and  the  ribbons  —  countless,  rosetted, 
small — that  meant  hard  work  on  the  part  of  some  one. 

"How  lovely  this  is,"  she  had  commented. 

"Yes,"  Rita  had  replied,  airily;  "I  thought,  don't  you 
know,  my  dressmaker  would  never  get  done  working  on 
it.** 

It  had  cost,  all  told,  two  hundred  and  twatty  ddlan» 
and  Cowperwood  had  gladly  paid  the  bill. 

Aileen  went  home  at  the  time  thinking  of  Rjta*t  tatte 
and  of  how  well  she  had  harmonized  her  materials  to  her 
personality.    She  was  truly  charming. 

Now,  however,  when  it  appeared  that  the  same  durm 
that  had  appealed  to  her  had  appealed  to  Cowperwood, 
she  conceived  an  angry,  animal  opposition  to  it  all.  Rita 
Sohlberg!  Hal  A  lot  of  satisfaction  she'd  get  knowing, 
as  she  would  soon,  that  Cowperwood  was  sharing  his  affec- 
tion for  her  with  Antoinette  Nowak — a  mere  stenographer. 
And  a  lot  of  satisfaction  Antoinette  would  get — ^the  dieap 
upstart — when  she  learned,  as  she  would,  that  Cowperwood 
loved  her  so  lightly  that  he  would  take  an  apartment  for 
Rita  Sohlberg  Mid  let  a  dieiq>  hotd  or  aa  asMgiuitMm<4ioi»e 
do  for  her. 

But  in  spite  of  this  savage  exultation  her  thoughts  kepf 
coming  back  to  herself,  to  her  own  predicament,  to  torture 
and  destroy  her.  Cowperwood,  the  liar!  Cowperwood, 
the  pretender!  Cowperwood,  the  sneak!  At  one  moment 
^e  conceived  a  kind  of  horror  of  the  man  because  of  all 
his  protestations  to  her;  at  the  next  a  rage — bitter,  swcUii^; 

144 


THE  CLASH 


at  the  next  a  pathetic  realization  of  her  own  altered  posi- 
tion. Say  what  one  will,  to  take  the  love  of  a  man  like 
Cowperwood  away  from  a  woman  like  ^een  was  to  leave 
her  high  and  dry  on  land,  as  a  fish  out  of  its  native  element, 
to  take  all  the  wind  out  of  her  sails — almost  to  kill  her. 
Whatever  position  she  had  once  thought  to  hold  throueh 
him,  was  now  jeopardized.  Whatever  joy  or  glory  she 
had  had  in  being  Mrs.  Frank  Algernon  Cowperwood,  it  was 
now  umished.  She  sat  in  her  room,  this^  same  day^  after 
the  detectives  had  given  didr  report,  a  tired  look  in  her 
eyes,  the  first  set  lines  her  pretty  mouth  had  ever  known 
snowing  about  it,  her  past  and  her  future  whirling  pain- 
fully and  nebulously  in  her  brain.  Suddenly  she  got  up, 
and,  seeing  G)wperwood's  picture  on  her  dresser,  his  still 
impressive  eyes  contemplating  her,  she  seized  it  and  threw 
it  on  the  floor,  stamping  on  his  handsome  face  with  her 
pretty  foot,  and  raging  at  him  in  her  heart.  The  dog! 
The  brute  I  Her  brain  was  full  of  the  thous^t  of  Rita  s 
white  arms  about  him,  of  his  Upt  to  hers.  The  spectacle 
of  Rita's  fluffy  eowns,  her  enticing  costumes,  was  in  her 
eyes.  Rita  should  not  have  him;  she  should  not  have  any- 
thii  g  connected  with  him,  nor,  for  that  matter,  Antoinette 
Now  .'k.  either — the  wretched  upstart,  the  hireling.  To 
think  he  should  stoop  to  an  ofiice  stenographer!  Once  on 
diat  thoi^t,  she  decided  that  he  should  not  be  allowed 
to  have  a  woman  as  an  assistant  any  more.  He  owed  it 
to  her  to  love  her  after  all  she  had  done  for  him,  die  coward, 
and  to  let  other  women  alone.  Her  brain  whirled  with 
strange  thoughts.  She  was  really  not  sane  in  her  present 
state.  She  was  so  wrought  up  by  her  prospecrive  loss  that 
she  could  only  think  of  rash,  impossible,  destructive  things 
to  do.  She  dressed  swiftly,  feverishly,  and,  calling  a  closed 
carriage  from  the  coadi-house,  ordend  hersdf  to  be  driven 
to  the  New  Arts  Building.  She  w  u ";  show  this  rosy  cat 
of  a  woman,  this  smiling  piece  of  in«pertinence,  this  she- 
devil,  whether  she  would  lure  G)wperwood  away.  She 
meditated  as  she  rode.  She  would  not  sit  back  and  be 
robbed  as  Mrs.  Cowperwood  had  been  by  her.  Never! 
He  could  not  treat  her  that  way.  She  would  die  first! 
She  would  kill  Rita  Sohlber'»  and  Antoinette  Nowak  and 
Cov^oei  wood  and  herself  first.    She  would  prefer  to  die 

145 


THE  TITAN 


that  way  rather  than  lose  his  lovc  Oh  yes,  a  thousand 
ttmetl 

Fortunately,  Rita  Sohlbtrg  was  not  at  the  New  Arts 
Buildins^  or  Sohlberg,  either.  They  had  gone  to  a  recep> 
tkm.  Nor  was  she  at  the  apartment  on  the  North  Side, 
where,  under  the  name  of  Jacobs,  as  Aiicen  had  been  in- 
formed by  the  detectives,  she  anJ  C'cwperwood  kept 
occasional  tryst.  Aileen  hesitated  kn  a  :  nomeiit,  fodiBf 
it  useless  to  wait,  then  she  ordere'i  <ihe  '  oachman  to  drive 
to  her  husband's  office.  It  was  ;  -w  i-ei  riy  five  o'clock. 
AntiHiiette  and  Cowperwood  had  both  ?.ont,  but  she  di4 
not  know  it.  She  changed  her  min  i,  h(  '  ver,  before  she 
reached  the  office — for  it  was  Rita  Sohlberg  she  wished  to 
reach  first — and  ordered  her  coachman  to  diive  back  to 
the  Sohlberg  studio.  But  still  they  had  not  returned.  In 
a  kind  of  aimless  rage  she  went  home,  wcmdering  how  she 
ilKMild  reach  Rita  Sohlberg  first  and  alone.  Then,  to  her 
•avi^  ddi^t*  the  game  wall  i  i  into  her  bag.  Fhe  Sohl- 
berip,  retumuM  home  at  six  o'ckxrk  firom  some  reception 
farther  out  Michigan  Avenue,  had  stopped,  at  the  wish  of 
Harold,  merely  to  pass  the  time  of  day  with  Mrs.  Cowper> 
neod.  Rita  was  exquisite  in  a  pale-blue  and  bvender 
conooction,  with  silver  braid  worked  in  here  and  there. 
Het  gloves  and  shoes  were  pungent  bits  of  romance  her 
hat  a  dieam  of  graceful  lines.  At  the  sight  of  her,  Aneen, 
who  was  still  in  the  hall  and  had  opened  the  door  heiself, 
fairly  burned  to  seize  her  by  the  throat  and  strike  ner;  but 
she  restrained  hendf  sufficiently  to  say,  "Come  She 
still  had  sense  enou'  h  and  self-possession  enough  to  con- 
ceal her  wrath  an  to  close  the  door.  Beside  his  wife 
Harold  was  standin  ,  offensively  smug  and  in^dent  in 
the  fashionable  froc  -coat  and  silk  hat  of  the  time,  a  re- 
straining influence  ;  ^  yet.   He  was  bowing  and  smiling: 

"Oh.'  This  sou  d  was  neither  an  "oh"  nor  an  "ah," 
but  a  kind  of  Danish  inflected  "awe,"  which  was  usmAy 
not  unpleasing  to  hear.    "How  are  you,  once  more,  Meescs 


**W<m*t  vou  two  just  go  in  the  reception-room  a  mo- 
ment," said  Aileen,  almost  hoarsely.    "I'll  be  right  in. 
want  to  get  something."  Then,  as  an  afterthought,  s/>e 


awe. 


THE  CLASH 

called  very  sweetly:  **0b^  ib$m  Solttn^  won  t  you  come 
up  to  my  room  m  a  iiwi—t?  I  htm  aanMhiag  I  want 

to  dmw  you." 

Rka  letpcmded  promptly.  %e  ah  3y^  Mt  it  incun^ent 
upon  her  to  be  very  nice  to  Ailecn. 

"W«  ktve  only  a  moment  to  st^y,  sne  retried,  agchly 
and  fweetly,  and  cmniaK  out  in  the  hdl,  "bitt  PI  cone 
up." 

A  een  stayed  to  sec  her  go  lir&i,  tht  n  (u&amtd  up-ctain 
swiftly,  sumy,  entered  after  Rita,  md  doeed  #e  ioor. 

With  a  courage  aiid  r:!_  Horn  *  pure!'  as  'bksI  despair, 
she  turned  a  d  locked  ii,  then  -i^tt  awtf^iy.  her 

^res  lit  with  „  savage  fire,  er  checks  pai^  u^t  bet  taftuM^ 
Mr  hands,  her  finfHS  wociiag  k  a  mm^w^  m  mamm 
way. 

"So,"  she  said,  lo«iki-  g  at  Rita  'Xk  coti5«;  ard  h 
quickly  and  angi  ly.  '  stea.  hus  ^u,  ill  you 
You'll  live  in  a  ;  -ret  -ipar  aent,  yo  You'll  come 
here  smiling  and  ving  to  will  mti  Yea  beast!  Yo« 
cat!  You  prostrate!  ii  he  /ou  now!  You  tow- 
headed  beasr!  I  know  /ou  no  what  you  are!  I'll 
teach  you  on*,   for  all^    Take  th  t,  ^nd  that,  and  that!" 

Suituy  action  to  word,  Aileer  had  descended  upon  her 
in  a  wluiiwina,  antt  I  fashion  riking,  scratthing,  chok- 
ing, tearing  her  vifti  r's  ha»  1  her  h^ad,  ripping  the 
laces  horn  feer  neck,  beatii  2  th   fafiCv  and  dutching 

vwlcnrly  »  ^nr^^  ^ad  to   aoht  and  mar  her 

mth  L  ^e. 

By  the  siidJemess  nf  ttiis  niiliiiii||H  j^ca  Sohlberg  was 

akt  r  ^    ic  c  TD-let        It      cam*  to  iwiftly,  so  terribly, 
he  sc       y  i    -         nat  was  happening  before  the  storm 
>va5  u.      her.  wm  im  tMM  for  arguments,  frfcas, 

inythii  ^  ri  d,  sh  me  ionplu.«sed,  she  were  -jown 
uuite  linipi)  ni-^r  thi  imost  li^tnin^  attack.  When 
Aiben  b^ar;  <  o  auaht  he  ^  ttempted  m  vain  to  defend 
herself,  uttt  ing  at  the  me  piercing  screams  which 

'il4  be  heard  throug  =  the  nouse.  She  screamed 
£  irffly,  stiangely,  like  a  wilu  dying  animal.  On  the  in> 
stant  all  her  fine,  civilized  poise  had  deserted  her.  FrtMl 
the  s  ./eetress  and  delicacy  of  the  reception  atmosphere^ 

m 


THE  TITAN 

the  polite  cooings,  posturings,  and  mouthings  so  charming 
tu  CMitemplate,  so  alluring  in  hei — she  had  dropped  on 
the  instant  to  that  native  afiimal  condition  that  shows 
itself  in  fear.  Her  eyes  had  a  look  of  hunted  horror,  her 
lips  and  cheeks  were  pale  and  drawn.  She  retreated  in  a 
staggering,  uneraceful  wav;  she  writhed  and  squirmed, 
•creaming  in  the  strong  clutch  of  the  irate  and  vigorous 
Aileen. 

Cowperwood  entered  the  hall  below  just  before  the 
screams  began.   He  had  followed  the  Swilbergs  almost 

immediately  from  his  office,  and,  chancing  to  glance  in  the 
recepdon-room,  he  had  observed  Sohlberg  smiling,  radiant, 
an  intangible  air  of  self-ingratiating,  social,  and  artistic 
sycophancy  about  him,  his  long  black  frock-coat  but- 
toned smoothly  around  his  body,  his  silk  hat  still  in  his 
hands. 

"Awe,  how  do  you  do,  Meezter  Cowperwood,"  he  was 
beginning  to  say,  his  curly  head  sh?king  in  2  friendly 
nianner»  ''I'm  soa  gjbd  to  see  you  again"  iwlien— but 
^o  can  imitate  a  scream  of  terror?  We  have  no  words, 
no  symbols  even,  for  those  essendal  sounds  of  fright  and 
agony.  They  filled  the  hall,  the  library,  the  reception- 
room,  the  distant  kitchoi  even,  and  batonent  with  a  kind 
of  vibrant  terror. 

Cowperwood,  always  the  man  of  action  as  opposed  to 
nervouc  cogitation,  braced  up  on  the  instant  hke  taut 
wire.  What,  for  heavoi's  sake,  could  that  be?  What  a 
terrible  cry!  Sohlberg  the  artist,  responding  like  a  cha- 
melecm  to  the  various  emotional  complexions  of  life,  b<^|^ 
to  breadie  •tertorously,  to  blandi,  to  lose  contr^  of  hnn- 
sdf. 

"My  God  I"  he  exclaimed,  throwing  up  his  hands,  "  that's 
Rita!  Sht'a  up-stain  in  your  wife's  room!  Something 
must  have  happened.  Oh — "  On  the  instant  he  was 
quite  beside  himself,  terrified,  shaking,  almost  useless. 
Cowperwood,  on  the  contrary,  without  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion nad  thrown  his  coat  to  the  floor,  dashed  up  the  stairs, 
followed  by  Sohlbeiv.  What  could  it  be?  A^ere  was 
Ailwnf  At  he  bounded  upward  a  dear  sense  of  something 
UMOward  came  over  him;  it  was  sickening,  terrifying. 
Sciwm!   Scream!   Scream!  came  the  sounds.   "0^,  my 


THE  CLASH 

Godl  don't  kffl  me!  Help!  HelpP*  Sciww— tWi  last 
a  long,  terrified,  ear-piercing  wail. 

Sohlberg  was  about  to  drop  from  heart  failure,  he  was  so 
frightened.  His  face  was  an  ashen  gray.  Cowperwood 
seized  the  door-knob  vigorously  and,  finding  the  door 
locked,  shook,  rattled,  and  banged  at  it.     .  . 

"Aileen!"  he  called,  sharply.  "Aileen!^  What'a  the 
matter  in  there?   Open  this  door,  Aileen  1" 

"Oh,  my  God!  Oh,  help!  help!  Oh,  merc)r— o-cwMwAr 

It  was  the  moaning  voice  of  Rita. 

"I'll  show  you,  you  she-devill"  he  heard  Aileen  calhng. 
"ril  teach  you,  you  bean!  You  cat,  you  pcotdtotel 
There!  there!  there!"  ^, 

"Aileen!"  he  called,  hoarsely.  "Aileen!"  Then,  getting 
no  response,  and  the  screams  continuing,  he  turned  angnly. 

"Stand  back!"  he  exclaimed  to  Sohlberg,  who  was  moan- 
ing helplessly.  "Get  me  a  ch-ir,  get  me  a  table— any- 
thing/' The  butler  ran  to  obey,  but  before  he  could  return 
Cowperwood  had  found  an  implement.  "Here!"  he  sai(^ 
seizing  a  long,  thin,  heavily  carved  and  heavily  wrought  <»k 
chair  which  stood  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  on  the  landing 
He  whirled  it  vigorously  over  his  head.  Smash!  The 
sound  rose  louder  than  tne  screama  umde.  ... 

Smash!  The  chair  ankad  and  tkaott  hnikM,  hat  tbt 
door  did  not  give.  ...      -  u 

Smash!  The  chair  broke  and  the  door  llew  open.  He 
had  knocked  the  lock  loose  and  had  leaped  in  to  where 
Aileen,  kneeling  over  Rita  on  the  floor,  was  choking  and 
bearing  her  into  insensibility.  Like  an  animal  lie  wat  upon 

her.  ,  , 

"Aileen,"  he  shouted,  fiercely,  in  a  hoarse,  ugly,  gut- 
tural voice,  "you  fool!  You  idiot— let  gol  What  the 
devil's  the  matter  with  you?  What  are  you  trymg  to  do? 
Have  you  lost  your  mind ?— you  crazy  idiot!" 

He  seised  her  strong  hands  and  ripped  them  apart.  He 
fairly  dragged  her  back,  half  twisting  and  half  throwing 
her  over  his  knee,  loosing  her  clutching  hold.  She  was  so 
insandy  fbrious  that  At  trill  struggled  and  cried,  saying: 
"Let  me  at  her!   Let  me  at  her!   I'll  teach  her!   Oon  t 

{mtc '^oli°  ******  ^'^  ******  ^**" 


THE  TITAN 

"Pick  up  that  woman,"  called  Cowperwood,  firmly,  to 
Sohlberjg  and  the  butler,  who  had  entered.  "Get  her  out  of 
here  quick  I  My  wife  has  gone  crazy.  Get  her  out  of  here, 
1  tell  you  I  This  woman  doesn't  know  what  she's  doing. 
Take  her  out  and  get  a  doctor.  What  ton  of  a  hell'g  melM 
u  this,  an3rway?** 

"Oh,"  moaned  Rita,  who  was  torn  and  fainting,  almost 
unconsaous  from  sheer  terror. 

"m  kin  herr  screamed  Aileen.  "1*11  murder  her!  I'll 
murder  you  too,  you  dog  I  Oh"— she  began  striking  at 
him—  1 11  teach  you  how  to  run  around  wi&  other  wwnen. 
you  dogt  you  brute  t" 

Cowperwood  merely  gripped  her  hands  and  shook  her 
v^iprously,  forcefully. 

'What  the  devil  has  got  into  you,  anyway,  you  foolf* 
he  said  to  her,  bitterly,  as  they  carried  Rita  out.  "What 
arc  you  trying  to  do,  anyway— murder  her?  Do  you  want 
the  police  to  come  in  here?  Stop  your  screaming  and  be- 
have yourself,  or  I'll  shove  a  handkerchief  in  your  mouth! 
Stt>P'I«enyo«'  Stop!  Dovouhearme?  This  is  enough, 
you  fooll  He  clapped  his  hand  over  her  mouth,  pressing 
It  tight  and  forang  her  back  against  him.  He  shook  her 
brutally,  angrily.  He  was  very  strong.  "Now  will  you 
f*°P'  ."J*  'nsisted,  "or  do  you  want  me  to  choke  you  quiet? 
1  will,  :f  you  don't.  You're  out  of  your  mind.  Stop,  I  tell 
youl  So  this  IS  the  way  you  carry  on  when  things  don't 
go  to  suit  you?"  She  was  sobbing,  itriMa^nig,  moaniw, 
nalfscreaming,  quite  beside  herself. 

Oh,  you  crazy  feoir  he  said,  swinging  her  round,  and 
with  an  effort  getting  out  a  handkerchief,  which  he  ''orced 
over  her  face  and  in  her  mouth.  "There,"  he  said,  reheved- 
ly,  now  will  you  shut  up  r  Holding  her  right  in  an  iron 
gnp,  he  let  her  struggle  and  turn,  quite  ready  to  put  an  end 
to  her  breathing  if  necessary. 

Now  that  he  had  conquered  her,  he  continued  to  hold 
her  tightly,  stooping  beside  her  on  one  knee,  listening 
and  meditatmg.  Hers  was  surely  a  terrible  passion.  FixMn 
some  points  of  view  he  could  not  blame  her.  Great  was 
her  provocation,  great  her  love.  He  knew  her  disposition 
TO  oiough  to  have  anricipated  something  of  this  sort. 
Yet  the  WRCche&ieM,  shame,  scandal  of  dit  cwtibie  afiur 

ISO 


THE  CLASH 

upset  lut  Cttttomaiy  equilibrium.  ^  To  think  any  oat  should 

SVC  way  to  such  a  storm  as  this!  To  think  that  Aileen 
lould  do  it!  To  thitik  that  Rita  should  have  been  so 
mistreated  I  It  was  not  at  all  unlikely  that  she  was  seri- 
ously injured,  marred  for  life — possibly  even  killed.  The 
horror  of  that  I  The  ensuing  storm  of  public  rage  t  A  trial ! 
His  whole  career  gone  up  in  one  terrific  explosion  of  woe, 
anger,  death  1  Great  God! 

Re  called  the  butler  to  him  by  a  nod  of  his  head,  when 
the  latter,  who  had  gone  out  with  Rita,  hurried  back. 
"How  is  she?"  he  asked,  desperately.    "Seriously  hurt?" 
"No,  sir;  I  think  not.  I  believe  she's  just  fainted.  She'll 
be  all  right  in  a  little  while,  sir.    Can  I  be  of  any  service, 
sir?" 

Ordinarily  Cowperwood  would  have  smiled  at  such  a 
scene.   Now  he  was  cold,  sober. 

"Not  now,"  he  replied,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  srill  holding 
Aileen  firmly.  "Go  out  and  close  the  dooi.  Call  a  doc- 
tor.  Wait  m  the  hall.   When  he  comes,  call  me." 

Aileen,  conscious  of  things  being  d(me  for  Rita,  of  sym- 
pathy being  extended  to  her,  trira  to  get  up,  to  scream 
again;  but  she  couldn't;  her  lord  and  master  held  her  in 
an  ugly  hold.  When  the  door  was  closed  he  said  again: 
"Now,  Aileen,  will  you  hush?  Will  you  let  me  get  up  and 
talk  to  you,  or  must  we  stay  here  rM  nieht?  Do  you  want 
me  to  drop  vou  forever  after  to-nightr  I  understand  all 
about  this,  out  I  am  in  control  now,  and  I  am  goins  to 
stay  so.  Yon  will  come  to  your  senses  and  be  reasonaole, 
or  I  will  leave  you  to-morrow  as  sure  as  I  am  here."  His 
voice  rang  convincingly.  "Now,  shall  we  talk  sensibly, 
or  will  you  go  on  maxing  a  fool  of  jrourself — disgracing 
me,  disgracing  the  house,  making  yourself  and  myself  the 
laughing-stock  of  the  servants,  the  neighborhood,  the  city? 
This  is  a  fine  showing  you've  made  to-day.  Good  God! 
A  fine  showing,  indeed!  A  brawl  in  this  house,  a  fight!  I 
thought  you  had  bette-  sense — more  self-respect — really  I 
did.  You  have  wm-ji.sh  jeoput^zed  my  chances  here  in 
Chicago.  You  hav  .luslv  injured  and  possibly  killed 
a  woman.  You  couiu  even  be  hanged  for  that.  Do  you 
hear  me?" 

''Oh,  let  than  hang  me,"  groaned  Aileen.  "Iwanttodie." 


THE  TITAN 

He  took  away  nis  hand  from  her  mouth,  loosened  his  crip 
upon  her  arms,  and  let  her  get  to  her  feet.  She  was  still 
torrential,  impetuous,  ready  to  upbraid  him,  but  once  stand- 
ing she  was  coiifronted  by  him,  cold,  commanding,  fixing 
her  with  a  fishv  eye.  He  wore  a  look  now  she  had  never 
seen  on  his  face  before— a  hard,  wintry,  dynamic  flare,  which 
no  one  but  his  commercial  ene  mies,  and  only  those  occa- 
sionally, had  seen.  ' 

"Now  stop!"  he  exclaimed.  "Notonemorewoidl  Not 
onel   Do  you  hear  me? 

She  wavered,  quailed,  gave  way.  All  the  fury  of  her 
tempestuous  soul  fell,  as  the  sea  falls  under  a  lapse  of  wind. 
She  had  had  it  m  heart,  on  her  lips,  to  cry  again,  "You  dot! 
vou  brute!"  and  a  hundred  other  terrible,  useless  thing! 
but  somehow,  under  the  pressure  of  his  gaze,  the  hardness 
ot  his  heart,  the  words  on  her  lips  J  ed  away.  She  looked 
at  him  uncertainly  for  a  moment,  then,  turning,  she  threw 
herself  on  the  bed  near  by,  clutched  her  cheeks  and  mouth 
and  eyet,  and,  rocking  back  and  forth  in  an  agony  of  woe. 
she  began  to  sob:  * 

"9h,myGod!  mv  GodI  My  heart  1  My  life!  I  want 
to  die!  1  want  to  die!^* 

Standing  there  watching  her,  there  suddenly  came  to 
Umpcrwood  a  keen  sense  of  her  soul  hurt,  her  heart  hurt, 
and  he  was  moved. 

"  Aileen,"  he  said,  after  a  moment  or  two,  comuut  over 
and  touching  her  quite  gently,  "Aileenl  Don't  c^o.  I 
haven  t  left  you  yet  Your  life  isn't  utteriy  ruined.  Don't 
cry.  1  his  is  bad  business,  but  perhaps  it  is  not  without 
remedy.   Come  now,  pull  yourself  together,  Aileen!" 

tor  answer  she  meidy  rocked  and  moaned,  uncontrolled 
and  unccmtrollable. 

Being  anxious  about  conditions  elsewhere,  he  turned  and 

7  »il"*^  H«        n»ke  tome  show  for  the 

benefit  of  Ae  doctor  and  the  servants;  he  must  look  after 

°^  passing  explanation  to  Sohlberg. 
»nA  Z^t.h  V  t/  »i°  »  P»«'"e  servant,  "shut  that  door 
Md^atch  ,t.    If  Mrs.  Cowperwood  cooes  out  caU  me 


CHAPTER  XIX 
"hbll  hatr  ko  fuht— *• 

RITA  was  not  dead  by  any  means — only  seriously 
,  bruited,  tcntched,  and  choked.  Her  scalp  was  cut 
in  one  place.  Aileen  had  repeatedly  beaten  her  head  on 
the  floor,  and  this  mieht  have  resulted  seriously  if  Cowper- 
wood  YmA  not  entered  as  quickly  as  he  had.  Sdilberg  for 
tlie  moment — for  some  little  time,  in  fact — was  under  the 
impression  that  Aileen  had  truly  lost  her  mind,  had  sud- 
denly Kone  crazy,  and  that  those  shameless  charges  he  had 
heard  tier  makmg  were  the  emanations  of  a  disordered 
brain.  Nevertheless  the  things  she  had  said  haunted  him. 
He  was  in  a  bad  state  himself— almost  a  subject  for  the  doc- 
tor. His  lips  were  bluish,  his  cheeks  blanched.  Rita  had  been 
carried  into  an  adjoining  bedroom  and  laid  upon  a  bed; 
cold  water,  ointments,  a  bottle  of  arnica  had  been  procured; 
and  when  Cowperwood  appeared  she  wa^  conscious  and 
somewhat  better.  But  she  was  still  venr  weak  and  smart- 
ing from  her  wounds,  both  mental  and  physical.  When 
the  doctor  arrived  he  had  been  told  that  a  lady,  a  jguest, 
had  fallen  down-stairs;  when  Cowperwood  came  m  the 
physician  was  dressing  her  wounds. 

At  toon  at  he  had  gone  Cowperwood  said  to  die  maid  in 
■iteudance,  **Qo  get  me  tome  hot  water.^   At  liie  latter 
disappeared  he  bent  over  and  kissed  Rita's  Imnted  Iqpt,  put- 
tiiut  his  finger  to  his  own  in  warning  sign. 
^lUta."  he  asked,  toftly.  *'afe  fsu  fid^  contdmit?** 
&m  nodded  weakly. 

'*IiMcn,  then,"  he  said,  bending  over  and  speaking  slowly. 
''Littcn  cardfttUy.  Pay  strict  Mtaitioa  to  tHiat  Vm  say- 
Mg.  You  must  understand  every  word,  and  do  as  I  tdl 
yott.  You  are  not  seriously  injured.  You  will  be  all 
r^lit.  Tyi  will  hkm  ovtr.  I  h«vt  test  Iv  MMhtr  doo> 


THE  TITAN 

tor  to  call  on  you  at  your  itudio.   Your  husband  has  cone 
for  some  /resh  c  othes.   He  will  come  back  in  a  little  wS 
My  cama^  will  take  you  home  when  you  are  a  littfe 
Sk?*k^'  '""^J"'*  '"°"y-    Everything  will  be  all 

3S«  .  /  ™««  ^^y,  everything,  do  youliear?  Every- 
l3l  tJlJ  fJ"  r"!.*'"^'  Cowperwood  is  insani 
i  i  *°  your  husband  to-morrow.  I  wUl  send  you 
a  trained  nurse.  Meantime  you  must  be  careful  of  what 
you  say  and  how  you  say  it.    Be  perfectly  calm,  iwj 

Mrs.  Cowperwood  wiU  not  trouble  you  any  more.   I  will 

ywi  aU  the  whfle.   You  must  not  let  this  make  any  differ- 
c  -ii  L  V  '^'^  her  any  more." 

gtiU  he  luiew  that  it  would  make  a  difference. 
Reassured  as  to  Rita's  condition,  he  went  back  to 

could"  '  K'"fo»„f  K**  ^^f^^ 
Ta  ^^^^P        dressing,  a  new  thought 

Sdlv  rh^L  5  T*' groaning,  her  mood  had 
gradually  chanced;  she  began  to  reason  that  if  she  could 

she  h.TKl?J'   I    '  "^T**  ''^^         P^°P«Iy  sorry! 

h^h  }V?'  ^T""-  she  thought,  that 

to  nmti^  ut?  W  *i  ^^^^^^^          his^  aAxiety 

wraE^K        *****  J^"  so  great;  Tiis  brutality  in  r^ 

betowe  that  this  was  so.    He  had  been  so  wonderful 

do^  it  tJ;.  ^  too  much-but  onl^r  a  Mparation  would 
crt  u„  i^..  "'^j^'  ^'"i"^  She  would 

nn^iS'i.  '  ^  down-town  to  a  hotel.  He  should 
fied  dfaJ'/hf  ?r  i;"'"*'  he  followed  her.  She  wa.  sati^ 
aJv^a^fo^  i  "P.^***  liaison  with  Rka  Sohlberg, 

Wd^aSLH'*ST"''i*"**  '"'JT'  Antoinette  Nowak,  she 
Sied    ?h?lo?  •^^"^         her  heart 

she  could  n«r  .  J°  of  woe  and  n«e,  alternating,  that 
sne  could  not  cry  any  more  now.    She  stood  before  her 

TfiA-'i:'^        *""*»'^  to  do  over  h«  toSS 

and  adjust  a  strret-costume.   Cc-^erwpod  was  ELiM 
nonplussed  at  this  unexpected  «gSr^^  <l»turbed, 

>S4 


"HELL  HATH  NO  FURY—" 

"Aileen,"  he  said,  finally,  coming  up  behind  her,  "can't 
you  and  I  talk  this  thing  over  peacefully  now?  You  don't 
want  to  do  anything  that  you'll  be  sorry  for.  I  don't  want 
you  to.  I'm  sorry.  You  don't  really  believe  that  I've 
ceased  to  love  you,  do  you?  I  haven  t,  you  know.  This 
thing  isn't  as  bad  as  it  looks.  I  should  think  you  would 
have  a  little  more  sympathy  with  me  after  all  we  have 
been  through  together.  You  haven't  any  real  evidence 
of  wrong-douig  on  whidi  to  base  any  such  outburst  u 
this." 

"Oh,  haven't  I?"  she  exclaimed,  turning  from  the  mirror, 
adhere,  sorrowfully  and  bitteriy,  she  was  snfioothing  her  red- 
gold  hair.  Her  cheeks  were  flushed,  her  eyes  red.  Just 
now  she  seemed  as  remarkable  to  him  as  she  had  seemed 
iJiat  first  dav,  yean  ago,  ^fAwn  in  a  red  cape  he  had  seen 
her,  a  girl  of  sixteen,  running  up  the  steps  of  her  father's 
house  m  Philadelphia.  She  was  so  wonderful  then.  It 
mellowed  his  mooo  toward  her. 

"That's  all  you  know  about  it,  you  liar!"  she  declared. 
"It's  little  you  know  what  I  know.  I  haven't  had  detec- 
tives on  your  tnil  for  weeks  for  nothing.  You  sneak  I 
You'd  like  to  smooth  around  now  and  find  out  what  I  know. 
Well,  I  know  enou^  let  me  tell  you  that.  You  won't  fool 
me  anv  longer  with  your  Rita  Sohlbergs  and  your  Antoinette 
Nowaks  and  your  apartments  and  your  hoiiMes  assigna- 
tion. I  know  what  you  are,  you  brutel  And  after  all  your 
protestations  of  love  for  me!  Ugh!" 

She  turned  fiercely  to.her  task  while  Cowperwood  sured 
at  her,  toudied  by  her  pasdoo,  mored  by  her  §mmt.  It  waa 
fine  to  see  what  a  dramatic  uunnl  Ae  mur-toMy  mwdijr 
of  him  in  many  ways. 

"  Aileen,"  he  said,  softly,  hoping  still  to  ineratiate  himself 
by  d^rees, "  please  don't  be  so  bitter  toward  me.  Haven't 
you  anv  understanding  of  how  life  works — any  sympathy 
with  itr  I  thousht  you  were  mom  generoa^  mon  tender. 
I'm  not  so  bad.' 

He  eyed  her  thoughtfully,  tenderly,  hoping  to  move  her 
through  her  love  for  him. 

"Sympathy!  Sympathy!"  She  turned  on  him  blazing. 
"A  lot  you  know  aoout  sympathy!  I  suppose  I  didn't  give 
yott  wy  tywKpuAy  wiian  you  wttt  ni  nit  pmiumfaify  ki 


THE  TITAN 


Philadelphia,  did  I?  A  lot  of  good  it  did  me-tlidn't  it? 
bympathy!  Bahl  To  have  you  come  out  here  to  Chicaeo 
and  take  up  with  a  lot  of  prostitutes-cheap  stenographers 
and  wives  of  musiciansl  You  have  given  me  a  lot  of 
sympathy,  haven't  you?--wth  that  woman  lying  in  the 
next  room  to  prove  it!" 

She  smoothed  her  lithe  waist  and  shook  her  shoulders 
PWiatory  to  putting  on  a  hat  and  adjusting  her  wrap. 
t.fSr^l^,Tni^^^  a.      was,  and  s^dTadette  hai 

"Aileen,"  he  pleaded,  determined  to  have  his  way,  "I 

^tlZllu'^'y  u^'^"^.^        There  is  no  occa- 

»on  for  aU  diit-none  m  the  world.   Here  you  are  talkinit 

US''  TV  ^"V"" scandalizing  the  whole  neighbor- 
.   «'  '^^J'ouse.   It's  abominafie.  I 

don  t  want  you  to  do  it.  You  love  me  yet,  don't  you? 
You  know  you  do.    I  know  you  don't  mean  aH  you  «y 

You  can't    You  really  don't  believe  that  I  have  SseTto 

love  you,  do  you,  Aileen?"  «» 

"Lover  fired  Aileen.    "A  lot  you  know  about  love!  A 
lot  you  have  ever  loved  anybody,  you  brure!   I  know 

fcrJ°^'-  .  ^  ^  Humph! 

1  see  how  you  loved  me—just  as  you've  loved  fifty  other 
women,  as  you  love  that  snippy  little  Rita  Sohlbere  in  the 
next  room-the  cat!--the  dirty  Utde  beast ^-th7way  yoJ 
V  "'"u  Nowak-a  cheap  stenographer!  Bah!  You 
don  t  know  what  the  word  means."  And  yet  her  voice 
trailed  off  mto  a  kind  of  sob  and  her  eyes  fillS^Jkh  realS 
hot,  angry,  aching.  Cowperwood  saw  them  and  came 
over,  hoping  m  some  way  to  take  advantage  of  them.  He 
was  truly  sorry  now-«ucious  to  make  h«  feel  tSdS  tow! 
ara  mm  once  more. 

nhl^^!"]!  ^*  E^'^^""^'  ^  «>  bitter.  You 

shouldn  t  be  so  hard  on  me.    I'm  not  so  bad.   Aren't  vou 
*°  be  reasonable?"  He  put  out  a  smootfcSj^hiS" 
but  she  jumped  away.  "-*iH, 

aniSr  '"Cnv'°"'*'  .'"'''  y^""  v'*™'*'"  "be  exclaimed, 
angnly.  Don  t  you  lay  a  han^i  on  me.  I  don't  want 
you  to  come  near  me.   ill  m>t  live  with  you.   I'll  not  «ry 

iU  J^S""'  T  "^1^  ^l*?^  mistresses.  Go  and 
hve  with  your  dear,  darhng  Riu  on  the  North  Side  if  you 

156  ' 


"HELL  HATH  NO  FURY—" 

want  to.  I  don't  care.  I  suppose  you've  been  in  the  next 
loom  comforting  her— the  beast!  I  vrish  I  had  killed  her— 
Oh,  God !"  She  tore  at  her  throat  in  a  violent  rage,  tiying 
to  adjust  a  button.  .    .  u 

CowpMWOod  was  literally  astonished.  Never  had  he 
seen  such  an  outburst  as  this.  He  had  not  believed  Aileen 
to  be  capable  of  it.  He  could  not  help  admiring  her. 
Nevertheless  he  resented  the  brutality  of  her  assault  on 
Rita  and  on  his  own  promiscuous  tendency,  and  thi«  feeling 
vented  itself  in  one  last  unfortunate  remark. 

"I  wouldn't  be  so  hard  on  mistresses  if  I  were  you, 
Aileen,"  he  ventured,  pleadingly.  "  I  should  have  thought 
your  own  experience  would  nave — *' 

He  paused,  for  he  saw  on  the  instant  that  he  was  makmg  a 
grave  mistake.  Thia  reference  to  her  past  as  a  mistress  was 
crucial.  On  die  mstant  she  straightened  up,  and  jyw 
filled  with  a  great  pain.  "So  that's  the  way  you  talk 
to  me,  is  itr  she  asked.   "Iknewitl   I  knew  it!   I  knew 

it  would  comef*  . .  l  l 

She  turned  to  a  tall  chest  of  drawers  as  high  as  her 
breasts,  laden  with  silverware,  jewel-boxes,  brushes  and 
combs,  and,  putdiig  lier  arms  down,  she  laid  her  head 
upon  them  and  began  to  cry.  This  was  the  last  suraw.  He 
was  throwing  up  her  lawless  girlhood  love  to  her  as  an 

"Ohi"  she  sobbed,  and  shook  in  a  hopeless,  wretched 

paroxysm. 

Cowperwood  came  over  quickly.  He  was  distressed, 
pained.  *'I  didn't  mean  that,  AUeen,"  he  explained.  I 
didn't  mean  it  in  that  way— not  at  all.  You  rather  drew 
that  out  of  me;  but  I  didn't  mean  it  as  a  reproach.  You 
were  my  mistress,  but  good  Lord,  I  never  loved  you  any 
the  less  for  that-^rather  mote.  You  know  I  did.  I  want 
you  to  believe  tliais:;  it's  true.  These  other  matters JiavtB  t 
been  so  important  to  me—they  really  haven't—** 

He  looked  at  htt  helplessly  as  she  moved  away  to  aroso 
him;  he  was  distressed,  nonplussed,  immensely  K>rry.  As 
he  walked  to  the  center  of  the  room  again  she  »«ddeiUy 
•idFered  a  great  revulsion  of  fedn^  but  oidy  m  ^  diate» 
tion  of  more  wrath.   This  was  too  much. 

"So  this  is  the  way  you  talk  to  me,"  she  exclauned, 

IS7 


THE  TITAN 


"after  all  I  have  done  for  youl  You  tav  that  to  me  aft^r  T 
waited  for  you  «ui  cried  over  you  ^StlnVou  wSe  priwn 

thf"^tt  '^^^^  ^^'f^^dj^^r  i^y-c^sc.  and,  resenting  all 
&JP^  he  had  ?,vcn  her  in  Philade  phia,  iTParis  in 
^T!*  kI"  '".^'"gO'  suddenly  tfi rew  open  tSe  1  d 
and, grabbing  the  contents  by  handfuls.  be«an  totM«thJm 

f^^L^H*  ^^'^^  given  her  in  real  a^ 

fection:  a  jade  necklace  and  bracelet  of  Dale  aooIeSr^n 

Sris  aM'L.1?  •^'^'''7'  white  ivoryTa  nSfef 
SJ?h  a  nff  J**  T^^^^^     color,  that  shone 

^tn  a  tinted,  pearly  flame  m  the  evening  fieht;  a  h^lAil 

J  Ho?"  fi"^  brooches,  diamonds,  rabies,  oK  am«W 
a  dog^ollar  of  emeralds,  and  a  diamond  ha  ri^m^t' 
She  flung  them  at  him  excitedly,  strewing  the  flo^r  sJriEn!; 

thSrante^*-^^^  hands/"T\kra& 
and  thati  There  they  are!  I  don't  want  anything 
mote  of  vours.  I  don't  want  anything  moreto  drSSE 
you.  I  don  t  want  anything  that  belongs  to  you  Th^t 
God,  I  hav*  mooay  «K«gl,  V  my  own  fo  UvJonl  I  hate 
dj«P"c  you-I  nerer  want  to  see  you  any  mor^ 

w  AifcSr  H.^*"?"-  "A""!",  come  bKk  h«el  Don't 
&«|SVL?"      "''J;,''"">«1  f»«.r;  she  opened  »d 

SL-T  L     others— lust  one  of  his  mi^vsses.  To 

To  be  tofdThS^r     '°  ^'l^     »  foJSHiheS 
«  sohbed  as  she  walked 

«wa  laid  every  gift  of  passion  and  ^keoim  on  tbe  alterof 


••HELL  HATH  NO  I  URY  — " 

her  love.  It  wasn't  fair,  really.  She  must  be  made  to 
stay.  He  caught  up  at  last,  reaching  her  under  the  dark 
of  the  November  trees.  .     • . 

"Aileen,"  he  said,  layine  hold  of  her  and  puttmg  hii 
arms  around  her  waist.  '^Aileen,  dearest,  this  is  (Mam 
madness.  It  is  insanity.  You're  not  in  your  nght  mmd. 
Don't  go!  Don't  leave  me  1  Iloveyoul  Don  t  you  know 
I  do?  Can't  you  really  see  that?  Don't  nm  Kwvy  like 
thUf  and  don't  cry.  I  do  love  you,  and  you  know  it.  I 
always  shall.  Come  back  now.  Kin  me.  I'll  do  better. 
Really  I  will.  Give  me  another  chaaoe.  WmIc  md  m. 
Come  now-won't  yottf  TWe  nqr  giri,  nqr  ASmb.  Do 
come.   Heaser*  ...  . 

She  pulled  on,  but  he  hdd  her,  ■moothmg  her  wmm,  Mr 
neck,  her  face. 

"Aileen!"  he  entreated.        ^   ^  ^  ,  , 

She  tugged  ao  that  he  was  iadlr  cmBMOed^  wo* 
her  about  into  his  arms;  then,  sobbing,  mc  Mood  tone 
agonixed  but  happy  once  more,  in  a  ^y. 

-But  I  don't  wait  to>**  Ae  ptomui.  "YtmioB^hm 
me  any  more.   Lec  me  go."  ,  -   ,.    ,  . 

But  he  kept  hold  of  her,  urging  and  finally  she  said,  her 
head  upon  his  shoulder  as  ot  old,  "Don't  make  me  come 
back  to-night.  I  don't  want  to.  I  can|t.  Let  OW  fO 
down-town.    I'll  come  back  later,  maybe." 

"Then  I'll  go  widi  you,"  he  said,  endeannglv.  It 
isn't  ri^ht.  There  are  a  lot  of  tha^  I  ahould  be  doing  to 
stop  this  scandal,  but  I'll  go." 

iiBB  wginier  tn^  fougnc  a 


CHAPTER  XX 
"mam  and  superman" 


f  ^li^rf^JUfa''^  ''^^ ^h^mic  union. 

^„r?^      •  "°  of  romance  that  bloom  most  otf^ten 

wJSl  *  '  «eemmg  y  urgent  feeling  for  Cowpeiw 

v/ood.  was  yet  not  so  charmed  by  Rim  but  that  thii  Zck 
to  her  pnde  was  a  marked  sedative.   The  crushing  wcSht 
^  tud,  an  «ipo«,«  as  this,  the  Homeric  laughte  "Cnt 
f  not  mdicated  m  the  faulty  planning,  the  failure  5,  wke 
Lad  ^"JSk  ^^£1^       ^  pos^bilities  wh"h  m  gh? 

"**  *  ™  too  much  for  her  to  endure 

She  ^s  stung  almost  to  desperation,  maddened,  Jt  "he 
M^^klltj^-'  way  «  which  .i.e  had  walked  i^to 
taSa^^"^  '  clutches  and  been  made  into  a  8^ec° 
t*de  ^d  a  laughmg-stock  by  her.    What  a  brute  she  was- 

d?cuUtan'^°"ia.  „n  "^'^u""* 

3^  ^-  "**  gnef  to  hei— rather  a  salve  to  her 

h^l^Li^'^u^T         j""  she  had  b^n 

badly  beaten,  her  beauty  turned  into  a  ragamuffin  show 
and  that  was  enough.  This  evening,  in  t£  lS?  Shore 
thou3.'2!i;' ^^''^  she  had  bufon^ 

herieari;?K^L™rt^     '^'^"'^  ^"  ^ 
morr       j^?     .  ^^^^  *****  Sohlbeig  any 

SrSdv  VJj/"" '  '°  »f  Cowperwood  any  more^ 
rH^  u  •  '  »"«P'«o"s  and  determined  to  get  at  the 
truth  was  beginnmg  to  question  her  as  to  the  slrangenew 
of  Aileen  s  attack-her  probable  reason.   When  CoVd^ 

Zb^t  fo'/JhT"""?'-  modiiied^Z^ 
What,  for  wnatever  his  suspicions  were,  he  was  not  ore. 
panji  to  quarrel  with  thjs  angular  man  as  yeT  ^ 
1  am  to  sorry  about  this  unfortunate  business,"  said  Cow- 

i6o 


"MAN  AND  SUPERMAN" 

Btrwood,  coining  in  with  brisk  assurance.  "I  never  knew 
my  wife  to  become  so  strangely  unbalanced  before.  It  was 
most  fbrtunate  that  I  arrived  when  I  did.  I  certainly  owe 
you  both  every  amend  that  can  be  made.  I  smcerely  hope, 
Mrs.  Sohlbere,  that  you  are  not  seriously  injured.  If  there 
it  anything  f  can  possibly  do— anything  either  of  you  can 
suggest"— he  looked  around  solicitously  at  Sohlberg—  1 
shall  only  be  too  glad  to  do  it.  How  would  it  do  for  you 
to  take  Mrs.  Sohlberg  away  for  j  'ittle  while  for  a  rest? 
I  shall  so  gladly  pay  all  o^cnacs  in  connection  with  her 
recovery."  . 

Sohlbeis,  brooding  and  heavy,  remained  wfaaponsive, 
smoldering;  Rita,  cheered  by  Cowperwood'e  presence,  but 
not  wholly  relieved  by  any  means,  was  questioning  and 
disturbed.  She  was  afraid  there  was  to  be  a  terrific  scene 
between  them.  She  jodared  she  was  better  and  would  be 
all  right— that  she  did  not  need  to  go  away,  but  tiiat  sfee 
preferred  to  be  alone. 

"It's  very  strange,"  said  Sohlberg,  sullenly,  after  a  little 
while.  **I  daunt  onderttand  it!  I  daunt  onderstand  it  at 
all.  Why  should  she  do  soach  a  thing?  Why  should  she 
say  soach  thin^?  Here  we  have  been  the  be^t  of  fnends 
opp  to  now.  Th<w  suddenly  she  attacks  rn/  mde  am 
d  these  strange  t  ings." 

"  But  I  have  assured  you,  my  dear  Mr. .:  i  *  -natmy 
wife  was  not  in  her  right  mind.  She  has  •  s  .niect  to 
spells  of  this  kind  in  the  past,  though  never  ^  .iViMng  so 
violent  as  this  to-night.  Already  she  has  recovered  h»  nor- 
mal state,  and  die  does  not  remember.  But,  perhaps,  if  we 
are  going  to  discuss  things  now  we  had  better  go  out  m 
the  hall.   Your  wife  will  need  all  the  rest  she  can  get." 

Orce  outside,  Cowperwood  continued  wiA  briK.  int  as' 
surance:  "Now,  my  dear  Sohlberg.  what  is  it  I  uy? 
What  is  it  you  wirfi  me  to  do?  My  wife  has  made  a  let  of 
groundless  charges,  to  say  nothing  of  injurine  your  wife 
most  seriously  and  shamefully.  I  cannot  tell  you,  as  I 
have  said,  haw  mxnj  I  am.  I  assure  you  Mrs.  Cow^- 
wood  is  suffering  from  a  gross  illusion.  TTiere  is  absolutr'y- 
nothing  to  do,  nothing  to  say,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  but  to 
let  the  whole  matler  drop.  Don*t  you  agree  with  mer 
Hanld  ww  twiniag  mentally  in  iIm  «mIs  ff  ^ 
6  i6i 


THE  TITAN 

IJSIku"*  pI"  ifT  Po«nn.  "  he  knew,  was  not  foiw 
^iu^    u  "if  *****  reproached  him  over  and  ovw  fe,  kj! 

"te.  H«  »>««an  to  .well  md  bhuter  at  once 
he  ''j'^     '  for  you  to  say,  Mr.  Cowperwood," 

he  commuted,  defiantly,  "But  how  about  me?  WhwTdo 

ItSJ^r"^  ^  kr''**^««>*^k  yet.  ItcSver? 
rtrange.  Supposing  what  your  wife  sais  Was  true?  sJS^ 
posing  my  wife  has  been  going  around  weeth  xoi/ 3 
That  ees  what  I  want  *o  find  out.  Eef  shThMl  J^f^t 
u  what  I  theenk  it  ees  1  shall-I  »hall-l  dJi«|Lwi£ 
IdttOdo.  I  am  a  very  violent  man."  ^^  '^^ 
Vgwperwood  almost  smiled,  concerned  as  he  was  over 

^^S,?^*""*!?'  ^'  of  Sohlberg  physicaHy 

See  here,   he  otdaimed,  suddenly,  looking  sharolv  at 
die  musician  and  deciding  to  take  the  bull  bv  Se XL. 

2         "^^^iJ^-  situation  asTam!  ifc 

TL^f  T  Co'^Pfrwood,  but  yotirwif  and  your 

wite,  and  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  I  think  your  own  affaJrl 

^e"  withou?  'k?  You  cannTblXn  you" 

]JJe  without  blackening  yourse  f—that  is  inevitaSi 
None  of  us  is  exactly  per^ct:   For  myself  I  sha  ?  b2  ?om 

you  both;  if,  instead,  you  choose  to  make  tioubIL 

Whatr  exclaimed  Sohlbere.  "You  threats  «.> 
You  try  to  frighten  me  after  your  wiTrcha™  SLt  vou 

S^t^^ru^nit^afet  Wesiallseeaboutdisl  What 

"I  know  li't  Sohlbetg/'  rejoined  Cowperwood,  calmly 
1  know,  for  uutance,  that  for  a  long  whUe  your  ^Hfe  has 

«oner  miijht,  that  you  have  been  running  around  Jth« 

Mwnuw  *  nave  Dccn  aetitig  as  your  w^*a  fimadal  advittr 


»  « 


MAN  AND  SUPERMAN" 


and  in  that  time,  with  die  aid  of  detectives,  I  have  learned 
of  Anna  Stelmak,  Jessie  Laska,  Bertha  Reese,  Georgia 
Du  Coin— do  I  need  to  say  any  moreP  As  a  matter  <^ 
fact,  I  hare  a  number  of  your  letters  in  my  possession." 

"Saw  that  ees  it!"  exclaimed  Sohlberg,  while  Cowper- 
wood  eyed  him  fixedly.  "You  have  been  running  around 
weeth  my  wife?  Eet  ees  true,  then.  A  fine  situationl 
And  you  come  here  now  weeth  these  threats,  these  lies  to 
booldoze  me.  Hawl  We  weel  see  about  them.  We  weel 
see  what  I  can  do.  Wait  teel  I  can  eoamk  a  lawjptr  fitac 
Then  we  weel  see!" 

Cowperwood  surveyed  him  coldly,  angrily.  "What  an 
ass!"  he  thousht. 

"See  herc'^^he  said,  urging  Sohlben,  for  pnvaar  s  sake, 
to  come  down  into  the  lower  hall,  and  then  mto  the  street 
before  the  sanitarium,  where  two  gas-lamps  were  fluttering 
fitfully  in  the  dark  and  wind,  "I  see  very  plainly  that  you 
are  bent  on  making  trouble.  It  is  not  enougli  mat  I  hare 
assured  you  that  thcs-c  is  nothing  in  this — that  I  have  given 
you  my  word.  You  insist  on  goina  further.  Very  wcU, 
then.  Supposing  for  aigument's  taie  that  Mrs.  Gowpcf^ 
wood  was  not  insane;  that  every  word  she  said  was  true; 
that  I  had  been  misamducting  myself  with  your  wife? 
Whatofttr  What  wiU  you  dor  ,  ^ 

He  looked  at  Sohttmt  sraootUy*  inMttcaUy,  wbk  the 
latter  flared  up. 

"Haw!"  he  shouted,  melodramatically.  "Why,  I  would 
keel  you,  that's  what  I  would  do.  I  would  keel  her.  I 
weel  make  a  terrible  scene.  Just  let  me  knaw  that  this  is 
so,  and  then  see!" 

"Exactly,"  replied  Cowperwood,  grimly.  "I  thought 
so.  1  believe  you.  For  that  reason  Thave  come  prepared 
to  serve  you  m  just  the  way  you  wish."  He  reached  in 
his  coat  and  took  out  two  small  revolvers,  which  he  had  taken 
from  a  drawer  at  home  for  this  very  purpose.  ^  They  gleamed 
in  the  dark.  "Do  you  see  these P*  he  continued.  ^  "I  am 
foing  to  save  jrou  the  trouble  of  further  investigation,  Mr. 
Sohlberg.  Every  word  diat  Mrs.  Cowperwood  said  to- 
nisht — and  I  am  saying  this  with  a  full  understanding  of 
what  thitf  means  to  you  and  to  me — is  true.  She  is  no  more 
^aaa  than  I  am.  Yoitr  wifii  km  htm  Uving  ta  aa  apaf^ 


THE  TITAN 

mcnt  with  me  on  the  North  Side  for  month.,  thoudi  nm 
cannot  prove  that    She  doe.  not  love  vou,  but^w*^p3oS 

.  He  .aid  It  so  coolly,  sc  firmly,  tint  Sohlbenr.  who  was  an 
oAer  hMlthy  animal,  paled.   The  look  of  cold  steel  Jras 

ll^f.!!!^^'  metallic  voice  in  his  ear  was  underminimr  the 
httle  courage  that  he  had.   Cowperwood  by  nowlShSk«J 
on  the  piopomons  of  a  dangemiTman-tfe^iSiSrS 
"mT'cJv'  ^"""^  away  mortally  terrifiedV^^ 

a-ny^h^,7S: 

rMkL:Sj»J?.^-'  IweelseeV&^.'n 

him  w'hS'kZLiTi"  Garwood,  intercepting 

•'T  ,^  tt>  F>  and  seizing  him  firmly  by  the  arm 

I  am  not  going  to  "have  you  do  anything  oV  the  ^rt  T 

h^l :?  to  make  you  listen  to  reason  for  once.  NoW 

Jf.^*'r'%,  ^  ^^^^  then  I  am  thSidi.  1 

am  not  unfriendly  to  you.    I  want  to  do  you  a^^um 

d^'cVa.S.?^^T  '^5^^«i"-^h.th';«i'sffiS1i 
thw«  charges  my  wife  made,  not  a  thing.  I  merely  Lid 
what  I  did  just  now  to  see  f  you  were  in  earnest    Yn..  J„ 

«e  no"^",  V^^r-  .  W?^?  vou^  You 
Sn^^i.  *°  ^  ^'^^'^  ^  ^^'7  friend^TproiiS^ 

twn  to  make  to  you.  If  you  want  to  leave  Qua^Tnd 
stay  away  three  year,  or  mo»,  I  wiH  «e Xt  ^S^pa"d 
fave  thou.and  dollars  every  year  on  January  first-Sn  tha 
n.ii~five  thou.and  dollar;!"^  Do  yoi  hearT  (h^u  c^n 

t  tLee'thSui^?*^  ""''kV'^  your  tongue  and  I  w5l  maS 

^"^y'  i"«  as  you  please. 
«ut— and  this  is  what  I  want  you  to  remember-S  vn! 
don  t  get  out  of  town  or  hold  your  tongu^  jS^^fceC 
^  o^taTN^'T'      ^       l^i^^u.  S  rtiS  kill 

164 


••MAN  AND  SUPERMAN" 

me  in  a  4ay  or  two—  the  moaejr  b  ready  for  ym  ai^ 

time.  .   •  •  1  « 

He  pamed  while  Sohlberg  ttaied— hit  eyet  rMnd  and 

glassy.   This  was  the  most  astonishing  experience  of  his 

fife.   This  man  was  either  devil  or  prince,  or  both.  "  Good 

Godr*  he  thought.   **!fe  will  do  that,  too.   He  will  really 

kill  me."   Then  the  astounding  alternative— five  thousand 

dollars  a  year — came  to  his  mind.   Well,  why  not?  Hi» 

siloice  gave  coweent.  .  .  »» 

"If  I  were  you  I  wouldn't  go  up-stairs  again  to-night, 
continued  Cowperwood,  sternly.  "Don't  disturb  her. 
She  needs  lett.  Go  on  down-towa  and  come  and  see  me 
to-morrow— or  if  you  want  to  go  back  I  will  go  with  you. 
I  want  to  say  to  Mrs.  Sohlberg  what  I  have  said  to  you. 
But  remember  what  I've  told  you." 

"Nau,  thank  you,"  replied  Sohlberg,  feeblv.  "I  will  fo 
down-  town.   Good  nkht."   And  he  hurried  away. 


own-town.   Good  nieht."   And  he  humed  awy.  ^  ^ 
"I'm  sorry."  said  Cowperwood  to  himwlti  duiMHlVfljr. 
'It  b  too  tod,  but  it  was  dw  only  wi^.'* 


CHAPTER  XXI 


T 


Sl«r  c  uf"  L  "»*  completely  lubdued 
moJrmSble^b'!;.  *"  -""U  make  to 

^.5     "  •  «°"«  "  P«ns  on  him,  that 

t  l^t^eaS-.^^ 

he  aetM*  -^^g***"-  »f  quamliiit,  in  which 

home.  Nowak,  mnmea 

KSSation  3  ^  ;:^™"'  «trao35»  in 

^«^ti'j?h.2*U~Mr*i-i£ 


A  MATTER  OF  TUNNELS 

ing  that  Rita  would  have  been  a  much  better  type  of  wife 
for  him.  But  what  he  could  not  have,  he  could  not  have. 
Ht  tmasi  Im  atmition  with  renewed  force  to  hia  butineM; 
but  it  was  with  many  a  backward  glance  at  those  radiant 
iMurs  ivhen,with  Rita  in  his  presence  or  enfolded  by  hw 
^  lie  had  seen  Ufo  from  a  new  and  poetic  angle.  Ste 
m  iJ"— ""g,  lo  naive — but  «rfwt  coiila  he  dor 


For  several  yens  thereafter  Cowperwood  was  busy  fol- 
lowing the  Chicago  street-railway  situatioa  with  mcreas^ 
interest.  He  knew  it  was  useless  to  biood  Rita  Sohl- 
berg— she  would  not  return— and  yet  he  could  not  help  it; 
but  he  could  work  hard,  and  that  was  spmething.  His 
natural  aptitude  and  affection  for  street-railway  work  had 
long  since  been  demonstrated,  and  it  was  now  making  him 
resdess.  One  might  have  said  of  him  <juite  truly^  that  the 
tinkle  of  car-bells  and  the  plop  of  ploddmg  horses  feet  was 
in  his  blood.  He  surveyed  these  extending  lines,  with  their 
jingling  cars,  as  he  went  about  the  city,  with  an  almost 
hungry  eye.  Chicago  was  growing  fast,  and  these  little 
horse-cars  on  certain  streets  were  crowded  night  and  morn- 
inc--fairly  bulging  with  people  at  the  rush-hours.  If  he 
could  only  secure  an  octopus-crip  on  one  or  all  of  them; 
if  he  could  combine  and  controlthem  all  I  What  a  fortune  I 
That,  if  nothing  else,  might  salve  him  for  some  of  his  woes— 
a  tremendous  formoe— nothing  less.  He  forever  busied 
himself  with  various  aspects  of  the  scene  auite  as  a  poet 
might  have  concerned  himself  with  rocks  and  nils.  To  awm 
thew  street-railwaysl  To  own  tliete  itieewaiiwtjfti  So 

rang  the  song  of  his  mind.  ^  ,^  

Like  the  gas  situation,  the  Chicago  street-railway  situa- 
tion  was  divided  into  three  parts— three  companies  repre- 
senting and  corresponding  with  the  three  different  sides 
or  divisions  of  the  city.  The  Chicago  City  Railway  Com- 
pany, occupying  the  South  Side  and  extending  as  far  south 
as  Thirty -ninth  Street,  had  been  oraanized  in  1859,  and 
represented  in  itself  a  mine  of  wealth.  Already  it  con- 
trolled some  seventy  miles  of  track,  and  was  annually 
being  added  to  on  Indiana  Avenue,  on  Wabash  Avenue,^ 
State  Street,  and  on  Archer  Avenue.  It  owned  ovet 
hundred  ud  fifky  cart  of  the  old-Mwaed, 

167 


THE  TITAN 


no-stove  type,  and  over  one  thoutuid  hones;  it  employed 
one  hundred  and  seventy  conductors,  one  hundred  and 
sixty  drivers,  a  hundred  stablemen,  and  blacksmiths,  hai^ 
ness-makers,  and  lepairers  in  interesting  numbers.  Ttt 
■mmwplowt  were  busy  on  the  street  in  winter,  its  sprink- 
Img-cars  in  summer.  Cowperwood  calculated  its  tham. 
bonds,  rollin^stock,  and  other  phvsical  properties  as  totaE 
mg  m  the  vianity  of  over  two  million  dollars.  The  trouble 
with  this  company  was  that  its  outstanding  stock  was  Diin- 
• ,  Schiyhart,  who  was  now 

decidedly  mimical  to  Cowperwood,  or  anything  he  might 
wish  to  do,  and  by  Anson  Merrill,  who  had  never  msuii- 
fested  any  signs  of  friendship.  He  did  not  see  how  he 
was  to  get  control  of  this  property.  Its  shares  were  selling 
around  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  ^ 

wWk  K^?1*'  ^J"^^«y        »  corporation 

which  had  been  oiganized  at  the  same  time  as  the  South 
bide  company,  but  by  a  different  group  of  men.  Its 
management  was  old,  mdifFerent,  and  incompetent,  its 
equipment  about,  the  same.   The  Chicago  West  Division 

SilSk' Chicago  City  or 
jouth  Side  Railway,  but  was  now  a  separate  corporation. 
It  was  not  yet  so  profitable  as  the  other  divisions  of  the 
aty,  but  all  secuons  of  the  city  were  growinf.  The  horse- 
bell  was  heard  everywhere  tinkling  gaily. 

Standing  on  the  outside  of  this  scene,  contemplatinc  itt 
pronm^  Cowperwood  much  more  than  any  one  elsecon- 
nected  hnanaally  with  the  future  of  these  railways  at  tliis 
time  was  impressed  wkh  their  enormous  possibilities— thdr 
enonnous  future  if  Chicago  continued  to  grow,  and  was 
concerned  with  the  various  factors  which  might  further  or 
impede  their  progress. 

Not  long  before  he  had  discovered  that  one  of  the  chief 
handicaps  to  street-railway  development,  on  the  North  and 
West  bides,  lay  in  the  congestion  of  traffic  at  the  bridges 
spanning  the  Chicago  River.  Between  the  street  ends  that 
abutted  on  it  and  connected  the  two  sides  of  the  city  ran 

iSl!?**^"*  ««*«"»7i'"y'  <xlorous.  picturesque,  com- 
pact of  a  heavy,  delightful,  constantly  crowding  and  mov- 
ing boat  traffic,  which  kept  the  various  bridges  momenurily 
tumuig,  and  ued  up  the  street  traffic  on  either  side  of  tlie 

168 


A  MATTER  OF  TUNNELS 

river  until  it  seemed  at  timet  at  though  the  tangle  of  teami 
and  boats  would  never  any  more  be  straightened  out.  ^  It 
was  lovely,  human,  natural,  Dickoisesque— a  fit  nibject 
for  a  Daumier,  a  Turner,  or  a  Whistler.  The  idles:  of 
bridge-tenders  judged  for  himself  when  the  boats  and  when 
the  teams  should  be  made  to  wait,  and  how  Ions,  whife  m 
addition  to  the  reeular  pedestrians  a  group  of  idlers  stood 
at  gaze  fascinated  by  the  crowd  of  masu,  the  crush  of 
wagons,  and  the  picturesque  tu«  in  the  foreground  below. 
Cowperwood,  as  he  sat  in  his  light  runabout,  annoyed  by  a 
delay,  or  da^ed  swiftly  forward  to  get  over  before  a  bridge 
turned,  had  long  since  noted  that  the  street-car  service 
in  the  North  and  West  Sides  was  badly  hampered.  The 
unbroken  South  Side,  unthreaded  by  a  river,  had  no  such 
problem,  and  was  growing  rapidly. 

Because  of  this  he  was  naturally  interested  to  observe 
one  day,  in  the  course  of  his  per^rinarions,  that  there  ex- 
isted in  two  places  under  the  Chicago  River— in  the  first 
place  at  La  Salle  Street,  runntiv  north  and  south,  and  in  the 
second  at  Washington  Street,  running  east  and  west — two 
now  soggy  and  rat-infested  tunnels  which  were  never  used  by 
anybo^— dark,  dank,  dripping  affairs  only  vaguely  lighted 
with  oil-lamp,  and  oozing  with  water.  Upon  invesrigatum 
he  learned  «at  they  had  been  built  years  before  to  accom- 
modate this  same  tide  of  wagon  traffic,  which  now  congested 
at  the  bridges,  and  which  even  then  had  been  rapidly  rising. 
Being  forced  to  pay  a  toll  in  time  to  which  a  slight  toll  in 
cash,  exacted  for  the  privilege  of  using  ^  a  tunnel,  had 
seemed  to  the  investors  and  publk  infinitely  to  be  pre- 
ferred, this  traffic  had  been  offered  this  opportunity  ot 
avoiding  the  delay.  However,  like  many  another  hand- 
some commercial  scheme  on  paper  or  oubbling  in  die 
human  brain,  the  plan  did  not  work  exactly.  These  tun- 
nels might  have  proved  profitable  if  they  had  been  proper- 
ly built  with  long,  low-per-cent.  grades,  wide  roadways,  and 
a  sufficiency  of  light  and  air;  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  they 
had  not  been  judiciously  adapted  to  public  convenience. 
Norman  Sdhiyhart's  father  had  been  an  investor  in  theie 
tunnels,  and  Anson  Merrill.  When  they  had  proved  un- 
profitable, after  a  long  period  of  pointless  manipulation — 
coet,  one  ratttkm  d(^aiir--they  haa  been  aoldtonecitjfiw 


THE  TITAN 

otacdy  that  lum  each,  it  banc  poetically  deemed  that  a 
growug  aty  could  better  affoid  to  lose  so  disturbing  an 
amount  than  any  of  its  humble,  ambitious,  and  respect- 
able atma*.  That  was  a  Uttle  affair  bv  which  members 
of  couaea  had  profited  years  before;  but  that  also  is  another 
story. 

After  discovering  these  tunneb  Cowperwood  walked 
through  them  several  time*— for  though  they  were  now 

bMrded  up,  there  was  still  an  uninterrupted  footpath — 
and  wondered  why  they  could  not  be  utilized.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  if  the  street-car  traffic  were  heavy  enough, 
profitable  enough,  and  these  tunnels,  for  a  reasonable  sum, 
could  be  made  into  a  lower  grade,  one  of  the  problems  which 
now  hampered  the  growth  of  the  North  and  West  Sides 
would  be  obviated.  But  how?  He  did  not  own  the  tun- 
nels. He  did  not  own  the  street-railways.  The  cost  of 
leasing  and  rebuilding  the  tunnels  woidd  be  enormous. 
Helpers  and  horses  and  extra  drivers  on  any  grade,  how- 
ever slight,  would  have  to  be  used,  and  that  meant  an 
extra  expense.  With  street-car  horses  as  the  only  means 
of  tractKMi,  and  with  the  long,  expensive  grades,  he  was 
not  so  SUK  diat  this  venture  would  be  a  profitable  one. 

However,  in  the  fall  of  1880,  or  a  little  earlier  (when  he 
^s  still  very  much  entangled  with  the  preliminary  sex 
aWiirs  that  led  eventually  to  Rita  Sohlberg),  he  became 
aware  of  a  new  system  of  traction  relating  to  street-cats 
which,  together  with  the  arrival  of  the  an^ight,  the  tele- 
phone, and  other  inventkna,  seemed  destined  to  change 
the  character  of  city  life  oitirely. 

Recently  in  San  Francisco,  where  the  presence  of  hills 
made  the  movement  of  crowded  stfeet>raihiray  cars  ex- 
ceedingly difficult,  a  new  type  of  traction  had  been  intro- 
duced—that of  the  cabU,  which  was  nothing  more  than  a 
traveling  rope  of  wire  running  over  guttered  wIimIs  in  a 
conduit,  and  driven  by  immense  engines,  conveniently 
located  m  adjacent  stations  or  "power-houses."  The 
""  carried  a  readily  manipulated  "grip-lever,"  or  sted 
J  ^P'ch  reached  down  through  a  slot  into  a  conduit 
md  gripped"  the  moving  cable.  This  invention  solved 
the  problem  of  hauline  heavily  lados  street-cars  up  and 
down  steep  grades.  About  tht  mum  time  he  also  htud, 

170 


A  MATTER  OF  TUNNELS 

in  a  roundabout  way,  that  the  Chicago  Oty  Railway,  of 
which  Schryhart  and  Merrill  were  the  principal  ownert, 
was  about  to  introduce  thii  mode  of  tracriwi  on  its  Uiijst— 
to  €abU  State  Scratt,  aad  atuch  the  cars  of  other  linM 
running  farther  out  into  unprofitable  district*  ai  traum. 
At  once  the  solution  of  the  North  and  West  Side  prolmflM 
fladied  upon  him — cables. 

Outside  of  the  bridge  crush  and  the  tunncis  above  men-- 
rioned,  there  was  one  other  special  oondkion  windi 
had  been  for  some  time  past  attracdng  Q)wperwood  s  at- 
tenrion.   This  was  the  waning  enec^  of  the  North  Cl^caK<> 
City  Railway  Company — the  lack  of  foresight  on  me  part 
of  Its  directors  which  prevented  them  from  perceiving  the 
proper  sdution  oIF  their  difficulties.   The  road  was  in  a 
rather  unsatisfactonr  state  finandally— really  open  to  a 
coup  of  some  sort.  In  the  besinning  it  had  be«i  considered 
unprofiuble,  so  thinly  populated  was  the  territory  they 
served,  and  so  diort  mt  distance  from  the  business  heart. 
Later,  however,  as  the  territory  filled  up,  they  did  better; 
only  then  the  long  waits  at  the  bridges  occurred.  The 
managemoit,  feeling  that  the  lines  were  likely  to  be  pooriy 
patronized,  had  put  down  poor,  little,  light-weipht  rails, 
and  run  slimpsy  cars  which  were  as  cold  as  ice  m  winter 
and  as  hot  as  stove-ovens  in  amHBer.  No  attempt  had 
been  made  to  extend  the  down-town  terminus  of  the  wvml 
lines  into  the  business  center— they  stopped  just  over  »e 
river  which  bordered  it  at  the  north.    (On  the  South  Side 
Mr.  Schryhart  had  done  much  better  for  his  patrau.  He 
had  already  installed  a  loop  for  his  cable  about  Memlra 
itoie.)   As  on  the  West  bide,  straw  was  strewn  in  the 
bottom  of  all  the  cars  in  winter  to  keep  the  fwt  of  the 
passengers  warm,  and  but  few  open  cars  were  used  m  sum- 
mer.  The  directors  were  averse  to  introducing  them  be- 
cause of  the  expoise.   So  they  had  gcme  on  and  on,  addins 
lines  only  where  they  were  sur«  tliwr  wmdd  make  a  gooi 
profit  from  the  start,  putting  down  the  same  style  of  cheap 
rail  diat  had  be«i  used  in  the  beginning,  and  employing  the 
same  antique  typt  at  car  irfmll  rattled  and  trembled  as  it 
ran,  until  the  patrons  were  enraged  to  the  point  of  anarchy. 
Only  recently,  because  of  various  suits  and  complaints  m- 
atifunted,  me  compaiiy  had  htm  gna^  MMWiydli  bM 

m 


THE  TITAN 

they  scarcely  knew  what  to  du,  how  to  meet  the  onslausht. 
Though  there  was  here  and  there  a  man  of  seMe— such  at 
lerrencc  Mulpumon.  the  general  superintendent;  Edwin 
Kaffrath,  a  director;  William  Johnson,  the  constructing 
enpneer  of  the  company— vet  such  other  men  as  Oaias  C 
bkmner,  the  president,  and  Walter  Parker,  the  vice-presi- 
dent, were  reacuonanes  of  an  elderly  character,  conserva- 
tive, meditative,  stingy,  and,  worst  of  all,  fearful  or  without 
IITLV  I  ?t;«^nture.  It  is  a  sad  conuMntary  that 
'g>  *"°°*V"™»'>|y  takes  away  the  incentive  to  new 
acBiraBeiit  and  makes  "Let  well  enough  alone"  the  most 
apMaii^  motto. 

»  this,  Cowperwood,  with  a  now  splendid  scheme 

m  hu  mind,one  day  invited  John  J.  McKenty  over  to  his 
house  to  dinner  on  a  social  pretext.  When  the  latter,  ac- 
^"IE!I1I  k  Aileen  had  smiled 

?^  Sr  sweetly,  and  was  doing  her  best  to  be  nice 

Co'^Perwood  remarked: 

t»nnli:.u'7'u°  ^  any^  about  these  two 
Sid  U^^U^ste^?'"™  at  Washington 

«Jlf  city  took  them  over  when  it  didn't 

^"^"^^h^^^^y\^  good  for  Mvthing.  That 
5*J**'°"r^u?'?'v*°"?*»'  expUined  McKenty,  cau. 
ttwwl^;    "I  dunk  the  Sy  paij  a  millioo  for^dSi 

"Oh,  nothing  much,"  replied  Cowperwood,  evading  the 
natter  for  the  present.  "1  was  wondering  whether  they 
WW  in  such  condition  that  they  couldn't  be  used  for  anv- 
Jwfj^^J^  occaaioiial  lefemicei  in  the  papen  to  ^ 

"They're  in  pretty  bad  shape,  I'm  afraid,"  replied 

5Ia«?«J'    ^  "ther  of  them  in 

years  and  years.  The  idea  was  onginally  to  let  the  wagons 
go  through  them  and  break  up  the  crowding  at  the  brSges. 
but  It  didn't  work.  They  made  the  grad!  too  stSp^Sd 
the  tolls  too  high,  and  so  the  drivers  preferred  to  wait  for 
the  bndges  They  were  pretty  hard  on  horses.  I  can 
testify  to  thai  myself.  I've  driven  a  wagon-load  through 
them  more  than  once.  The  city  should  never  have  taken 
them  over  at  all  by  tights.   It  wac  a  deal  I  don't  know 


A  MATTER  OP  TUNNELS 

who  all  wat  in  it.  Omanody  wat  mayor  dwn,  and  Al- 

drich  was  in  charge  of  public  works." 

He  relapsed  into  silence,  and  Cowperwood  allowed  the 
matter  of  die  tunnels  to  rest  until  after  dinner  when  they 
had  adjourned  to  the  library.  There  he  placed  a  friendly 
hand  on  McKenty's  arm,  an  act  of  familiarity  which  the 
poiirician  radier  Itkcd. 

"You  felt  pretty  well  satisfied  with  the  way  that  gat 
business  came  out  last  year,  didn't  you?"  he  inquired. 

"I  did,"  replied  McKenty,  warmly.  "Never  more  so. 
I  told  you  that  at  the  time.''  The  Irishman  lilted  CowpM^ 
wood,  and  was  grateful  for  the  swift  manner  in  which  M 
had  been  made  ncfaer  by  the  ram  of  levtial  htmdfcd 
thousand  dollars. 

"Well,  now,  McKenty,"  continued  Cowperwood,  abrupt- 
ly, uid  with  a  seeming  lack  of  connection,  "has  it  ever 
occurred  to  you  that  things  are  shapinc  up  for  a  big  change 
in  the  street-railway  situatiMi  here?  I  can  see  it  comiM. 
There's  going  to  be  a  new  motor  power  introduced  on  the 
South  Side  within  a  year  or  two.   You've  heard  of  it?" 

"I  read  something  of  it,"  replied  McKenty,  surpnaed 
and  a  little  questionmg.  He  took  a  cigar  and  prepared  to 
listen.   Cowperwood,  never  smoking,  drew  up  a  chair. 

"Wen,  I'll  tell  you  what  that  means,"  be  cxplainadi 
"It  means  that  eventually  every  mile  of  street-railway 
track  in  this  city — to  say  nothing  of  all  the  additional 
milea  that  will  be  buih  before  this  diante  takca  place— will 
have  to  be  done  over  on  an  entirely  new  basis.  I  mean 
this  cable-conduit  system.  These  old  companies  that  are 
hobblmg  along  now  with  an  old  equipment  will  have  to 
make  the  change.  They'll  have  to  spend  millions  and 
millions  before  tney  can  bring  their  equipment  up  to  date. 
If  you've  paid  any  attention  to  the  matter  vou  must  have 
seen  what  a  cooiditicm  these  North  and  West  Side  lines 
are  m. 

"It's  pretty  bad;  I  know  that,"  commented  McKenty. 

"Just  so,"  replied  Cowperwood,  emphatically.  "Well, 
now,  if  I  know  anything  about  these  old  mamgemaita 
frnm  studying  them,  they're  going  to  have  a  hard  time 
bringing  themselves  to  do  this.  Two  to  three  million  are 
two  to  diree  milhoa,      it  isn't  gaiog  to  be  an  eaqr  matm 

m 


MICROCOPY  RfSOlUTION  TEST  CHART 
(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


THE  TITAN 

tLtT  f  °         the  money-not  as  easy,  perhaps,  as  it 

go  mto  the  street-railway  business."^ 

Yes,  supposing,"  replied  McKenty,  jovially.  "But 
kS^w^f      to  8«  >n  >t?  There',  no  tbck  for  sale  that  I 

to'  /n^T'ntk^'"^'"  Cowperwood.  "we  can  if  we  want 
Ihi^lJ  i?V**"fiT.-  ^"^  "  P^^^n'  **»ere's  just  one 
JnnJ  I  d  to  do  for  me.   I  want  to 

Tsf  l     i!"*  ^  j"*"^  y^*^  control  of  either 

.  rSi     t^^o      tuwiels  that  I  was  talking  to  you  about 

ri^'al^w'^^'  ^a'J^J^^ibout  filling  then,  in  some 
£  ih^  The  poUce  think  crooks  hide 

l™".?  »me,  don't  let  any  one  touch  them-don't 
!^'n  "'^""yii^  «pli«l  Cowperwood,  forcefully. 

1 11  tell  you  frankly  what  f  want  to  7o.  I  want  to  get 
control,  just  as  soon  as  possible,  of  all  the  street-railway 

^Tu""  West  Side^-oeworold  fraiJ 

chiscs.   Th«i  you'll  see  where  the  tunneb  come  in." 

He  paused  to  see  whether  McKenty  caught  the  poiiit  of 
all  he  meant,  but  the  latter  failed.  fomt  ot 

«BuTTj«^v''  ""l"*  ^  cheerfully. 

"  '  ^  how  you  can  use  the  tunnels.  However, 
ttiars  no  reason  why  I  shouldn't  take  care  of  them  for  you! 
If  you  thmk  that's  important.** 

It's  this  way,"  said  Cowperwood,  thoughtfully.  "I'll 
Jin7?.n  *  preferred  partner  in  all  the  ventures  that  I 
S^v  1^/°"  ^°  n't}  ^^"^  «tieet-railways,  as 

hJSLl^A  *  ^^""^         ^a"^*^"  "P         stocfc,  and 

VM^  arrh.  lT".*"^*''  •'"aP»»"P  within  eight  or  nine 
i!^^  -  k   •  ^^'^  what  the  South  Side  com- 

£3^N«ik*Q-J"*« When  it  comes  to  the  West 
Md  North  Side  companies  they  won't  find  it  so  easy.  They 

h^ve  ZZ'ZiA  Side,  and  besides  they 

--n  to  a  cable  Ime.   In  the  first  place,  the  bridges  will 

«74 


A  MATTER  OF  TUNNELS 

have  to  be  rebuilt  to  stand  the  extra  wdg^t  and  ttnm. 
Now  the  qfwttioii  aritei  at  onee— at  whoM  axpfBse?  The 

city's?" 

'^That  depends  on  who's  asking  for  it,"  replied  Mr. 
McKenty,  amiably.  , 

"Quite  so,"  assented  Cowperwood.  *  In  the  next  place, 
this  river  traffic  is  becoming  impossible  from  die  pmnt  of 
view  of  a  decent  street-car  service.  There  are  waits  now  of 
from  eight  to  fifteen  minutes  while  these  tows  and  vessels 
get  throuj^.  Chicago  has  five  hundred  thousand  popula- 
tion to-day.  How  much  will  it  have  in  1890?  In  1900? 
How  will  It  be  when  it  has  eight  hundred  thousand  or  a 

million?"  .      „         «,  ... 

"You're  quite  right,"  interpolated  McKenQr.  "It  wdl 

be  pretty  bad."   

'TExactly.  But  what  is  worse,  the  cable  Imea  will  carry 
trailers,  or  single  cars,  from  feeder  lines.  There  won't  be 
single  cars  waiting  at  these  draws — there  will  be  trains, 
crowded  trains.  It  won't  be  advisable  to  dday  a  cable- 
train  from  eight  to  fifteen  minutes  while  boats^are  makmg 
their  way  through  a  draw.  The  public  won't  stand  for 
that  very  long,  will  it,  do  yoy  think?" 

"  Not  without  making  a  row,  probably,  replied  MclLenty. 

"Well,  that  means  what,  then?"  asked  Cowperwood. 
*'Is  the  trafik  going  to  tetany  lights?  Is  the  river  fong 
to  dry  up?"  . 

Mr.  McKenty  stared.  Suddenly  his  face  lighted.  Cft: 
I  see,"  he  said,  shrewdly.  "Irs  those  tunnels  you  re 
thinking  about.   Are  they  in  any  shape  to  be  usedr 

"They  can  be  made  over  cheaper  than  new  <mef  can  be 

built"  „ 
"True  for  you,"  replied  McKenty,  "and  if  they'rein  any 

sort  of  repair  they'd  be  just  whatyou'd  want.     He  waa 

emphatic,  almost  triumphant.   "They  belong  to  the^C^. 

They  cost  pretty  near  a  million  apiec^  those  things. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Cowperwood.  "Now,  do  you  see  what 
I'm  driving  at?"  _  ... 

"Do  I  seel"  smiled  McKenty.  "That's  a  real  idea  you 
have,  Cowperwood.  I  take  off  my  hat  to  you.  Say  iraat 
you  want.'  _  , 

"Well,  then,  in  the  first  place,"  repked  Cowperwood, 

«75 


THE  TITAN 

genially,  "it  is  aereed  that  the  city  won't  part  with  tboce 
two  tunnels  under  any  circumstances  until  we  can  tee 
what  can  be  done  about  this  other  matter?" 
;;it  will  not." 

"In  the  next  place,  it  is  understood,  is  it,  that  you  won't 
make  It  any  easier  than  you  can  possibly  help  for  the  North 
and  West  Side  companies  to  get  ordinances  extending  their 
lines,  or  anything  else,  from  now  on  ?  I  shall  want  to  intro- 
duce some  franchises  for  feeders  and  outlying  lines  my- 

"Bring  in  your  ordinances,"  replied  McKenty,  "and  I'll 
do  whatever  you  say.  Pve  worked  with  you  before.  I 
know  that  you  keep  your  word." 

"Thanks,"  said  Cowperwood,  warmly.  "I  know  the 
value  of  keepmg  it.  In  the  mean  while  I'll  go  ahead  and 
see  what  can  be  done  about  the  other  matter.  I  don't 
know  just  how  many  men  I  will  need  to  let  in  on  this,  or 
just  what  form  the  organization  will  take.  But  you  may 
depend  upon  it  that  your  interests  will  be  properly  taken 
care  of,  and  that  whatever  is  done  will  be  done  with  your 
full  knowledge  and  consent." 

"M  very  good,"  answered  McKenty,  thinking  of  the 
new  field  of  activity  before  them.  A  combination  between 
iumself  and  Cowperwood  in  a  matter  like  this  must  prove 
very  benehaal  to  both.  And  he  was  satisfied,  because  of 
their  previous  relations,  that  his  own  interests  would  not 
be  neglected. 

"Shall  we  go  and  see  if  we  can  find  the  ladies?"  asked 
CJowpcrwood,  jauntily,  laying  hold  of  the  politician's  arm. 

lo  be  sure,  assented  McKenty,  gaily.  "It's  a  fine 
house  you  have  here— beautiful.  And  your  wife  is  as  pretty 
a  woman  as  I  ever  saw,  if  you'll  pardon  the  familiarity." 

,f },  '^^T^  VY^y^  thought  she  was  tather  attfactiw  my 
self,  rephed  Cowperwood,  innocently. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

nmBBTHUILWATS  AT  LAST 

AMONG  the  directors  of  the  North  Chicago  City  com- 
pany there  was  one  man,  Edwin  L.  Kaffrath,  who  was 
young  and  of  a  forward-looking  temperament.  His  father, 
a  former  heavy  atCiJtholder  of  this  company,  had  recently 
died  and  left  all  his  holdings  and  practically  his  director- 
ship to  his  only  son.  Young  KaflFrath  was  »y. 
practical  street-railwayr  man,  though  he  fancied  he  couW 
do  very  well  at  it  if  given  a  chance.  He  was  the  holder 
of  nearly  eight  hundred  of  the  five  thousand  shares  of 
stock;  but  the  rest  of  it  was  so  divided  that  he  could  only 
exercise  a  midor  influence.  Nevertheless,  from  the  day 
of  his  entrance  into  the  conipany— which  wasniOTiths  be- 
fore Cowperwood  began  seriously  to  diink  over  die  tittia- 
ticm— he  liad  been  strong  for  improvements — extensions, 
more  franchises,  better  cars,  better  horses,  stoves  in  the 
cars  in  winter,  and  the  like,  all  of  which  suggestions  sounded 
to  hb  fellow-directors  like  mere  manifestations  of  the  reck- 
less in^tuosity  of  youth,  and  were  almost  uniformly 

°**^^\\Tiat's  the  matter  with  them  cars?"  asked  Albeit 
Thorsen,  one  of  the  elder  directors,  at  one  of  the  meetings 
at  which  Kaffnth  was  present  and  offering  his  usual  pro- 
test. "I  don't  tee  anymmg  the  matter  with  'em.  I  nde 
in  'em  ** 

Thorsm  was  a  heavy,  dusty,  tobacco-bestrewn  individual 
of  sixty-six,  who  was  a  little  dull  but  genial.  He  was  m 
the  paint  business,  and  always  wore  a  very  light  steel-gray 
suit  mud)  crinl.led  in  the  seat  and  arms. 

"  Perhaps  that's  what's  the  matter  with  them,  Albert, 
chirped  up  Solwi  Kaempfaert,  one  of  his  cronies  on  the 
board. 

177 


THE  TITAN 

The  salKr  drew  a  laush. 
enouh"      *^^*  '•"*^"**>fyw»«>*»arf often 

Kalfrath.  They  re  dirtv,  and  they're  flimsy,  and  the  win- 
dowsrattle  so  you  can't  hear  yourself  think.  The  track  is 
no  good,  and  the  filthy  straw  we  keep  in  them  in  winter  is 
enough  to  make  a  person  sick.  We  don't  keep  the  track  in 
pSn  m'^seiV"      "  ^  ^^^^  complam.  I'd  com- 

nn':H^r^cl°"''  '^'u^  '^'"^f  that,"  put  in 

Unias  C.  Skmner,  the  president,  who  had  a  face  which  with 
Its  very  short  side-whisken  was  at  bland  as  a  Chinese  god. 

i;«T^.lf"*^1!?''u  "They're  not  the  lest 

cars  m  the  workf,  but  they're  good  cars.  Tney  need  oaint- 
inj  and  vamishmg  pietty  badly,  some  of  them,  but  out- 
«de  ot  that  there  s  many  a  good  year's  wear  in  them  yet. 
Id  be  very  glad  if  we  could  put  m  new  rolling-stock,  but 
the  Item  of  expense  will  be  considerable.  l?s  th^  ex- 
t^i^  that  we  have  to  keep  building  and  the  long  hauls 
for  five  which  eat  up  the  profits."   The  s^ed 

lone  baub   were  only  two  or  three  milet  at  the  outside. 

to  Mr.  Skin-ier. 

Wdl,  look  at  the  South  Side,"  persisted  Kaffrath.  "I 
don  t  know  what  vou  people  are  thinking  of.   Here's  a 

Philadelphia.  There's  another 
m  ban  l-nuiasco.  Some  one  has  invented  a  car,  as  I  under- 
n.^S.;n»      '  '  by  electricity,  and  here  we  are 

^f^^T't!?!'  I  i*'  t>»em-with  straw  in  them. 
yxod  Lord,  I  should  thmk  it  was  about  time  that  some  of 
us  iook  a  tumble  to  ourselves  1" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  commented  Mr.  Skinner.  "It 
^ems  to  me  we  have  done  pretty  well  by  the  North  Side. 
We  have  done  a  good  deal.'*^ 

wSirA".i,^^°"ir^*'"iP^**.'?'^^''*«  Thorsen,  Isaac 
V^^e  Anthony  E^.r,  Arnold  C.  Benjamin,  and  Otto 
Matjes,  bemg  solemn  gentlemen  all,  merely  sat  and  stared. 
h^LZr  '''8°r?"'^  ".uTrath  was  not  to  be  so  easily  repressed. 

The  faci  th?;.^*"***'^  "  complaints  on  othe^  occasions! 
Ihe  fact  that  there  was  also  considerable  complaint  in  the 
newspapers  from  tunc  to  time  in  regard  to  this  same  Nonb 

178 


STREET-RAILWAYS  AT  LAST 

Side  service  ^  '.eaied  him  in  a  way.  Perhap*  this  vould 
be  the  proverbial  fire  under  the  terra|Mn  wtndi  mmd 

cause  it  to  move  along. 

By  this  time,  owing  to  Cowp.  rwood's  undfstandmg 
with  McKentjr,  all  posnbility  of  the  North  compttiy^ 
securing  additional  franchises  for  unoccupied  streets,  or 
even  Ae  use  of  the  La  Salle  Street  tunnel,  had  ended. 
Kaffrath  did  not  know  this.  Neither  did  the  directors  or 
officers  of  the  company,  but  it  was  true.  In  addioon, 
McKenty,  through  the  aldermen,  who  were  at  his  beck 
and  call  on  the  North  Side,  was  beginning  to  stir  up  addi- 
tional murmurs  and  complaints  in  order  to  discredit  the 
present  management.  There  was  a  great  to-do  in  counal 
over  a  motion  on  die  part  of  smnebody  to  compel  the 
North  Side  company  to  throw  out  its  old  cars  and  lay 
better  and  heavier  tracks.  Curiously,  this  did  not  apply 
so  much  to  die  West  and  South  Sidej,  which  were  m  the 
same  condition.  The  rank  and  file  of  the  city,  ignorant  of 
the  tricks  which  were  constantly  bein^  employed  in  poIi»cs 
to  effect  one  end  or  another,  were  greatly  cheerwl  by  this 
so-called  "public  uprising."  They  little  knew  the  pawns 
they  were  in  the  game,  or  how  little  sincerity  constituted 
the  primal  impulse.  ,  i  •  . 

Quite  by  accident,  apparently,  one  day  Addison,  thmk- 
ing  of  the  different  m-sn  in  the  North  Side  conipany  who 
might  be  of  service  to  Cowperwood,  and  having  finally 
picked  young  Kaffrath  as  the  ideal  agent,  introduced  him- 
self to  the  latter  at  the  Union  League. 
"That's  a  pretty  heavy  load  of  expense  thats  stanna 
ou  North  and  West  Side  street-railway  peopk  in  the  face, 
le  took  occasion  to  observe. 

"How's  that?"  asked  Kaffrath,  curiously,  anxious  hear 
anything  which  concerned  the  development  of  the  business. 

'•Well,  unless  Fm  greatly  mistaken,  yoa,  aO  of  you,  are 
going  to  be  put  to  the  expense  of  dome  over  your  lines 
completely  in  a  very  little  while— so  I  hear— mtroducmg 
this  new  motor  or  cable  system  that  they  are  gettung  oo 
the  South  Side.**  Addison  wanted  to  convey  the  imprea* 
sion  that  the  dty  council  or  public  sentiment  or  "oin^fg 
was  going  to  Jmw  t!«  Yfonk  Chi«yp>  company  to  omu^ 
in  dnt  imt  nid  ex|MBnv«  tenet 

179 


THE  TITAN 

KafFradi  pricked  up  his  ears.  What  was  the  city  council 
goi.ig  to  do?  He  wanted  to  know  all  about  it.  They  di». 
cussrd  the  whole  situation— the  nature  of  the  cablMD. 
fiifti.  *  the  power-houses,  the  need  of  new  rails, 

and  the  necessity  of  heavier  bridges,  or  some  other  mean^ 
of  getting  over  or  under  the  river.  Addison  took  veiy  eood 
care  to  point  out  that  the  Chicago  City  or  South  Side  Rail- 
way wa»  in  a  much  more  fortunate  position  than  either  of 
the  other  two  by  reason  of  its  freedom  from  the  river- 
crossmg  problem.  Then  he  again  commiserated  the  North 
bide  company  on  its  rather  difficult  position.  "Your 

SaJfd  *  ^'"^  *****  *****  *o  <^  I  fiwcy*"  he 

nnJfS"?  r""*  duly  impressed  and  appropriately  de- 
pressed, for  his  eight  hundred  shares  would  be  depressed 
lU  ^  ^^^  necessity  of  heavy  expenditures  for  tunnels 
and  other  improvements.  Nevertheless,  there  was  some 
consolation  in  the  thought  that  such  betterment,  as  Addi- 
son now  described  would  in  the  lon^  run  make  the  lines 
P"?,^**"*-  But  m  the  mean  fime  there  .might  be 
rough  "Mling.  The  old  directors  ought  to  act  soon  now, 
he  thought.  With  the  South  Side  company  being  done 
over,  they  would  have  to  fellow  suit.  6uf  woulcfthey? 
How  could  he  get  them  to  see  that,  even  though  it  were  n4. 
essary  to  mortgage      li  ies  for  years  to  come,  it  would  pay 

S.^i'T  "  ■•^'^ 

After  the  lapse  o.  tc  w  weeks  Addison,  stiU  acting  for 
Cowperwood,  had  a  second  and  private  conferencTwith 
Kaltrath.  He  said,  after  exacting  a  promise  of  secrecy 
tor  the  present,  that  since  their  previous  conversation  he 
had  become  aware  of  new  developments.  In  the  interval 
he  l»d  beoi  visited  by  several  men  of  long  connection  with 
•treet-railways  in  other  localities.  They  had  been  visitimr 
▼anout  aties,  looking  for  a  convenient  outlet  for  th«r 
capittO,  and  had  finally  picked  on  Chicago.   They  had 

th^  No^r  r?''  'r?,        ^^'^        ^^^^  that 

the  North  Chicago  City  Railway  was  as  good  a  field  as 

fKlkA?*         elaborated  with  exceeding  care  the  idea 

iJurtC(W«rwood  had  outlined  to  him.   Kaffrath,  dubious 

at  first,  was  finally  won  over.  He  had  too  bog  chafed  imder 


STREET-RAILWAYS  AT  LAST 

the  dusty,  poky  attitude  of  the  old  r6gime.  He  did  not 
know  wKo  tnefe  new  men  were,  but  this  scheme  was  in  hne 
with  his  own  IJeas.  It  would  re<(uire,  as  Addison  Pointed 
out,  the  expenditure  of  several  milucmt  of  ddlart,  and  he  did 
not  tee  how  the  money  could  be  raised  without  outside  as- 
sistance, unless  the  lines  were  heavily  mortgaged.  U  these 
new  men  were  willing  to  pay  a  high  rate  for  fifty-<M»e  per 
cent,  of  this  stock  for  ninety-nine  years  and  would  guarantee 
a  satisfactory  rate  of  interest  on  all  the  stock  as  it  stood, 
besides  inaugurating  a  forward  policy,  why  not  let  them? 
It  would  be  just  as  good  as  mortgaging  the  soul  out  of  the 
old  property,  and  the  management  was  of  no  value,  any- 
how. Kadfrath  could  not  see  how  fortune*  were  to  be  made 
for  these  new  investors  out  of  subsidiary  construction  and 
equipment  companies,  in  which  Cowperwood  would  be  in- 
terested, how  by  issuing  watered  stock  on  the  old  and  new 
lines  the  latter  need  scarcely  lay  down  a  dollar  once  he  had 
the  necessary  opening  capital  (the  "talking  capital,"  as  he 
was  fond  of  calling  it)  guaranteed.  Cowperwood  and  Ad- 
dison had  by  now  agreed,  if  this  went  through,  to  oigamze 
the  Chicago  Trust  Company  with  millions  back  of  it  to 
manipulate  all  their  deals.  KafFrath  only  saw  a  better 
return  on  his  stock,  possibly  a  chance  to  get  m  on  the 
"ground  plan,"  as  a  new  phrase  expressed  it,  of  ttie  new 

company.  ,      ,  „      ,  . 

"That's  what  I've  been  telling  these  fellows  jo^thepast 
three  years,"  he  finally  exclaimed  to  Addison,  flattered  by 
the  latter's  personal  attention  and  awed  by  his  great  in- 
fluence; "but  they  never  have  been  willing  to  hsten  to 
me.  The  way  this  North  Side  system  has  been  manag^ 
is  a  crime.  Why,  a  child  could  do  better  than  we  have 
done.  They've  saved  on  track  and  rolling-stock,  and  lost 
on  population.  People  are  what  we  want  up  there,  and 
there  is  only  one  way  that  I  know  of  to  get  them,  and  that 
is  to  give  them  decent  car  service.  I'll  tell  you  frankly 
we've  never  done  it.**  ,  ,    ,      ,         ,i     •  l 

Not  long  after  this  Cowperwood  had  a  short  talk  with 
KaflFrath,  in  which  he  promised  the  latter  not  onlv  six  hun- 
dred dollars  a  share  for  al!  the  stock  he  possessed  or  wo^ 
part  with  on  lease,  but  a  bonus  of  new  company  stock  for 
his  influence.   Kaffrath  returned  to  the  North  Side  jubilant 

i8l 


THE  TITAN 

for  himself  and  for  his  company.  He  decided  after  due 
thought  that  a  roundabout  way  would  best  serve  Cowpeiw 
jSi*'  *  '''i'  °^  subtle  suggestion  from  tome  M^m- 
K?J  .'*«nt««8ted  party.  Consequently  he  caused  Wil- 
aamjohnson,  the  directing  engineer,  to  aL>proach  Albert 
Thorsen,  one  of  the  most  vulnerable  of  the  directory 

^Si  M«J««'  three  other  directors 

and  the  heaviest  owners,  had  been  offered  a  very  re- 
markable price  for  their  stock,  and  that  they  were  going  to 
selUeavwg  the  others  out  in  the  cold.  k    K  ™ 

he^hTr™  aS  ""^  '"^^ 

nf  fti?  *>«'n8  J^ept  the  source 

fin  j  »nfon»a5on  tecret.   Thorsen  at  once  hurried  to  his 

foMnfo^So^"""^*^  who  in  tun.  went  to  Kaffn«h 

"I  have  heard  something  to  that  effect,"  was  Kaffrath's 
only  comment,  "but  really  I  do  not  know." 

Thorsen  and  Kaempfaert  imagined  that  Kaf- 
nn  n,!I- *  'i"  conspiracy  to  self  out  and  leave  them  with 
"«»,e*«'cularly  valual)le  pickings.   It  was  very  sad. 

Meanwhile,  Ccwperwood,  on  the  advice  of  Kaffrath,  was 
approaching  Isaac  White,  Arnold  C.  Benjamin,  and  Otto 
Matjes  direct  -talking  with  them  as  if  they  were  the  only 
three  he  desired  to  deal  with.  A  Uttle  later  Thorsen^nS 

S'T^/**''  ^T,"^"^  "  «Pi"t.  and  agreed  in 

secret  fear  to  sell  out,  or  rather  lease  at  the  very  advan- 

'^"T'  Cowperwood  offered,  providing  he  touW  get 
harlr!i»  f  '°  hkewise.  This  gave  thc^tter  a  strong 
backing  of  sentiment  on  the  board.  Finally  Isaac  White 
stated  at  one  of  the  meetings  that  he  had  been  approached 
Zh„!3  ^"2"^  Ptopo&on,  which  he  then  Zd  there 
1-  sure  what  to  think,  he  said,  but  the 

^ard  might  hke  to  consider  it.   At  once  Thorsen  and 
^aempfaert  were  convinced  that  all  Johnson  had  suggested 
71?  t'^'i^^  *°  have  Cowperwood  come  and 
dS?^  just  what  his  plan  was.  and  this  he 

It  ^hape  in  the  near  future,  and 

that  this  proposed  plan  reUeved  all  of  them  of  work,  worry. 


STREET-RAILWAYS  AT  LAST 

and  care.   Moreover,  they  wen  guaranteed  mote  kiteretc 

at  once  than  they  had  expected  to  earn  in  the  next  twenty 
or  thirty  ytjrs.  Thereupon  it  was  agreed  that  Co¥rper- 
wood  and  nis  plan  should  be  given  a  tria.  >ediig  that  if 
he  did  not  succeed  in  payine  the  proposed  m.v.rest  prompt- 
ly the  property  once  more  became  theirs,  so  they  thought, 
and  that  ne  assumed  ail  obligatioiia— taxes,  water  rents, 
old  claims,  a  few  pensiona— it  appealed  in  the  li|^t  of  k 
rather  idyllic  scheme. 

"Well,  boys,  I  think  this  is  a  pretty  good  day's  work 
myself,'"  observed  Anthony  Ewer,  laying  a  friendly  hand 
on  the  shoulder  of  Mr.  Albert  Thorsen.  "  I'm  sure  we  can 
all  unite  in  wishing  Mr.  Cowperwood  luck  with  his  ad- 
venture." Mr.  Ewer's  seven  hundred  and  fifteen  shares, 
worth  seventy-one  thousand  five  hundred  dcXlzts,  having 
risen  to  a  valuation  of  four  hundred  and  twentjMune 
thousand  dollars,  he  was  naturally  jubilant. 

"You're  rieht,"  replied  Thorsen,  who  was  parting  with 
four  hundrecTand  eighty  shares  out  of  a  total  of  seven 
hundred  and  ninety,  and  seeing  them  all  bounce  in  value 
from  two  hundred  to  nz  hundred  doUaxt.  **He's  an  in- 
teresting man.  I  hope^  he  sucoeedi." 

G>wperwood,  waking  the  next  monung  in  Aileen's  room 
— he  had  been  out  late  the  night  '  pforc  with  McKenty, 
Addison,  Videra,  and  others — turned  and,  patting  her  neck 
^ere  dne  was  dozing,  said:  'W^,  f»*t,  yesterday  after- 
noon I  wound  up  that  Nort'  Chicago  :3tre' '  iilway  deal. 
I'm  president  of  the  new  North  Side  compa  just  as  soon 
as  I  get  my  board  directors  oreanised.  W  e  re  goin^  to 
be  of  some  real  consequence  m  diit  i^iagik  «fMr  all  ui  a 
year  or  two." 

He  was  'loping  that  diis  fact,  among  oth  gs,  would 
end  in  mollifying  Aileen  toward  him.  Sh  i  been  so 
gloomy,  remote,  weary  these  many  days — c  since  the 
terrific  assault  on  Rita. 

"Yes?"  she  replied,  with  a  half-hearted  sn?  rubbine 
her  waking  eyes.  She  was  clad  in  a  foamy  tgown  of 
white  and  pink.    "That's  nice,  isn't  it?** 

Cowperwood  brought  himself  up  on  one  elbow  a  looked 
at  her,  smoothing  her  round,  bare  arms,  which  h*  *s*8y8 

183 


THE  TITAN 

admired.  The  luminous  ricfancn  of  her  hair  had  nerer 
lost  its  charm  completely. 

**That  means  that  I  can  do  the  same  dung  with  the 
Chicago  West  Division  Company  in  a  year  or  so,"  he  went 
on.  "  But  there's  going  to  be  a  lot  of  talk  about  this,  I'm 
afraid,  and  I  don't  want  that  just  now.  It  will  work  out 
all  right.  I  can  see  Schr>hart  and  Merrill  and  some  of 
these  other  people  takine  notice  pretty  soon,  'ihey  ve 
missed  out  on  two  of  the  biggest  thinga  Chicato  ever  had— 
gas  and  railways." 

"Oh  yes,  Frank,  I'm  glad  for  you,"  commented  AilMn, 
radier  diearilv,  who,  in  spite  of  her  sorrow  over  his  defec- 
tion, was  still  glad  that  he  was  guing  on  and  forward. 
"You'll  always  do  all  right."  .   „    ...      „^      . .    .  . 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  feel  so  badly,  Aileen,  he  said,  with 
a  kind  of  afFectional  protest.  "Aren't  you  going  to  try 
and  be  '  ippy  with  me?  Thii  »  as  miich  for  you  as  for 
me.  You  will  be  able  to  pay  up  oU  fcoret  even  better 
than  I  will." 

He  smiled  winningly. 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  reproachfully  but  tenderly  at  that, 
a  little  sorrowfully,  "a  lot  of  good  money  does  me.  It  was 
your  love  I  wanted.**  .  , 

"But  you  have  that,"  he  insisted.  "I've  told  you  that 
over  and  over.  I  never  ceased  to  care  for  you  really. 
You  know  I  didn't.**  .  , 

"Yes,  I  know,"  she  replied,  even  as  he  gathered  her  close 
in  his  arms.  "I  know  how  you  care."  But  that  difJ noi 
prevoit  her  from  responding  to  him  warml  Jot  baci.  oi 
all  her  fuming  protest  was  heartache,  the  vv-h  to  hav« 
his  love  intact,  to  restore  thai  pristine  affection  which  sh* 
had  once  anumed  would  oidure  fotevn. 


OIAPTER  XXIII 


TSB  POWB&  or  THB  P&BM 

THE  moTy'-Ku  papers,  in  spite  of  the  efforti  of  Cowper- 
wood  atvw  ills  friends  to  keep  this  transfer  lecret,  short- 
ly thereafter  were  full  of  rumors  of  a  change  in  "North 
Chicago."  Frank  Algernon  Cowperwood,  hitherto  un- 
mentioned  in  connection  with  Chicago  street-railways,  was 
pointed  to  as  the  prohable  successor  to  Onias  C  Skinner, 
and  Edwin  L.  Kattrath,  one  of  the  old  directors,  as  future 
vice-president.  The  men  back  of  the  deal  were  referred  to 
as  "  in  ail  likelihood  Eastern  capitalists."  Cowperwood,  ai 
he  sat  in  Aileen's  room  examining  the  various  morning 
papers,  saw  that  before  the  dajr  was  over  he  would  besou^t 
out  for  an  expression  of  opinion  and  (tirdier  detaus.  He 
proposed  to  ask  the  newspaper  men  to  wait  a  few  days 
until  he  could  ulk  to  the  publishers  of  the  papers  them- 
selves— win  their  confidence— and  dien  announce  a  general 
policy;  it  would  be  something  that  would  please  the  city, 
and  the  residents  of  the  North  Side  in  parucular.  At  the 
same  time  he  dkl  not  care  to  promise  anything  which  he 
could  not  easily  and  profitably  perform.  He  wanted  fame 
and  tepuution,  but  ne  wanted  money  even  more;  he  in- 
tended to  get  both.  .  . 

To  one  who  had  been  working  thus  long  in  the  ininor 
realms  of  finance,  as  Cowperwood  considered  that  he  had 
so  far  been  doing,  this  sudden  upward  step  into  the  more 
conspicuous  regions  of  high  finance  and  control  was  an  a' 
inspiring  thing.  So  long  had  he  been  stirring  about  in  a 
lesser  region,  paving  die  way  by  hours  and  hours  of  private 
thought  and  conference  and  scheming,  that  now  when  he 
actually  had  achieved  his  end  he  could  scarcely  believe  for 
the  time  being  that  it  was  true.  Chicago  wns  such  a  splen- 
did dty.  It  wat  girnmag  so  fast.   Its  opportunities  were 


THE  TITAN 


so  wonderful.  These  men  who  had  thus  foolishly  parted 
with  an  indefinite  lease  of  their  holdings  had  not  really  con- 
sidered what  they  were  doine.  This  matter  of  Cnicaeo 
street-railways,  once  he  had  tnem  well  in  hand,  could  Be 
made  to  yield  such  splendid  profits!  He  could  incorporate 
and  overcapitalize.  Many  subsidiary  lines,  which  MclCenty 
would  secure  for  him  for  a  song,  would  be  worth  millions 
in  the  future,  and  they  should  be  his  entirely;  he  would  not 
be  indebted  to  the  directors  of  the  old  North  Oiicago  com- 
pany for  any  interest  on  those.  By  degrees,  year  bv  year, 
as  the  city  grew,  the  lines  which  were  still  controlled  by 
this  old  company,  but  were  practically  his,  would  beconw 
a  mere  item,  a  central  core,  in  the  so  veiy  much  larger 
system  of  new  lines  which  he  would  build  up  about  it. 
Then  the  West  Side,  and  even  the  South  Side  sections — 
but  why  dream  ?  He  might  readily  become  the  sole  mas- 
ter of  street-railway  traffic  in  Chicago!  He  might  readily 
become  the  most  princely  financial  figure  in  the  city — and 
one  of  the  few  great  financial  magnates  of  the  nation. 

In  any  public  enterprise  of  any  kind,  as  he  knew,  where 
the  suflFrages  of  the  people  or  the  privileges  in  their  pos- 
sesions are  desired,  the  newspapers  must  always  be  con- 
sidered. As  Cowperwood  even  now  was  casting  hungry 
eyes  in  the  direction  of  the  two  tunnels — one  to  be  held  in 
view  of  an  eventual  assumption  of  the  Chicago  West 
Division  Company,  die  odier  to  be  given  to  the  North 
Chicago  Street  Railway,  which  he  had  now  organized,  it 
was  necessary  to  make  friends  with  the  various  publishers. 
How  to  go  about  it? 

^  Recently,  because  of  the  influx  of  a  heavy  native  and  for- 
eien-bom  population  (thousands  and  thousands  of  men  of 
all  sorts  and  condidmis  looking  for  the  work  ipHiich  the 
growth  of  the  city  seemed  to  promise),  and  because  of  the 
dissemination  of  stirring  ideas  through  radical  individuals 


nism,  and  the  like,  the  civic  idea  in  Chicago  had  become 
most  acute.  This  very  May,  in  which  Cowperwood  had 
been  going  about  attempting  to  adjust  matters  in  his  favor, 
there  had  been  a  tremendous  national  flare-up,  when  in 
a  great  public  place  on  the  West  Side  known  as  the  Hay- 
market,  at  one  of  a  number  of  labor  meetingty  dubbed 


<^  forei 


anarchism,  socialism,  commu- 


l86 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  PRESS 

anarchistic  because  of  the  principles  of  some  of  the  speak- 
ers, a  bomb  had  been  hurled  by  some  excited  fanatic,  which 
had  exploded  and  maimed  or  killed  a  number  of  police- 
men, injuring  slightly  several  others.  This  had  brought  to 
the  fore,  once  and  for  all,  as  by  a  flash  of  lightning,  the 
whole  problem  of  mass  against  class,  and  had  given  it  such 
an  airing  as  in  view  of  the  cheerful,  oprimisdc,  almost  in- 
consequential American  mind  had  not  previously  been  pos- 
sible. It  changed,  quite  as  an  eruption  might,  the  whole 
face  of  the  commercial  landscape.  Man  thought  there- 
after somewhat  more  accurately  of  narional  and  civic 
things.  What  was  anarchism?  What  socialism?  What 
rights  had  the  rank  and  file,  anyhow,  in  economic  and 
governmental  development?  Such  were  interesting  ques- 
tions, and  following  the  bomb — ^which  acted  as  a  great 
stone  cast  in  the  water — these  ripple-rings  of  thought  were 
still  widening  and  emanating  until  they  took  in  such  sup- 
posedly remote  and  impregnable  ^  quarters  as  ediumal 
offices,  banks  and  financial  institutions  generally,  and  die 
haunts  of  polirical  dignitaries  and  their  jobs. 

In  the  face  of  this,  however,  Cowperwood  was  not  dis- 
turbed. He  did  not  believe  in  either  the  strength  of  the 
masses  or  their  ulrimate  rights,  thoueh  he  sympathized 
widi  the  condition  of  individuals,  and  aid  believe  that  men 
like  himself  were  sent  into  the  world  to  better  perfect  its 
mechanism  and  habitable  order.  Often  now,  in^  these  pre- 
liminary days,  he  looked  at  the  large  companies  of  men 
with  their  horses  gathered  in  and  about  the  several  car- 
bams  of  the  company,  and  wondered  at  their  state.  So 
many  of  them  were  so  dull.  They  were  rather  like  animals, 

Eatient,  inanistic,  hopeless.  He  thought  of  their  shabby 
omes,  their  long  hours,  their  poor  pay,  and  then  concluded 
that  if  anything  at  all  could  be  done  for  them  it  would  be 
pay  them  decent  living  wages,  which  he  proposed  to  do — 
nothing  more.  They  could  not  be  expected  to  understand 
his  dreams  or  his  visions,  or  to  share  in  the  magnificence 
and  social  dominance  which  he  craved.  He  finally  decided 
that  it  would  be  as  well  for  him  to  personally  visit  the  vari- 
ous newspaper  publishers  and  talk  the  situation  over  with 
them.  Adaison,  when  consulted  as  to  this  project,  was 
somewhat  dubious.   He  had  small  faith  in  the  newspapers. 

187 


THE  TITAN 

He  had  seen  them  play  petty  politics,  follow  up  enmities 
and  personal  grudges,  and  even  sell  out,  in  certain  cases, 
for  pathetically  small  rewards. 

"1  tell  you  how  it  is,  Frank,"  remarked  Addison,  on  one 
occasion.  "You  will  have  to  do  all  this  business  on  cotton 
heels,  practically.  You  know  that  old  gas  crowd  are  still 
down  on  you,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  you  are  one  of  their 
largest  stockholders.  Schryhart  isn't  at  all  friendly,  and 
he  practically  owns  the  Chronicle.  Ricketts  mil  just 
about  sav  what  he  wants  him  to  say.  Hyssop,  of  the 
Mail  and  the  Transcrittt  is  an  independent  man,  but 
he's  a  Presb3rterian  ana  a  cold,  self-righteous  moralist. 
Braxton's  paper,  the  Globe,  practically  belongs  to  Merrill, 
but  Braxton's  a  nice  fellow,  at  that.  Old  General  Mac- 
Donald,  of  the  Inquirer,  is  old  General  MacDonald. 
It's  all  according  to  how  he  feels  when  he  gets  up  in  the 
morning.  If  he  should  chance  to  like  yovix  looks  he  might 
support  you  forever  and  forever  until  you  crossed  liis 
conscience  in  somr  way.  He's  a  fine  old  walrus.  I  like 
him.  Neither  Schryhart  nor  Merrill  nor  any  one  else  can 
get  anything  out  of  him  unless  he  wants  to  give  it.  He 
may  not  live  so  many  years,  however,  and  I  don't  trust 
that  son  of  his.  Haguenin,  of  the  Press,  is  all  right  and 
friendly  to  you,  as  I  understand.  Other  things  being  equal, 
I  think  he'd  naturally  support  you  in  anything  he  thought 
was  fair  and  reasonable.  Well,  there  you  have  them.  Get 
them  all  on  your  side  if  you  can.  Don't  ask  for  the  La 
Salle  Street  tunnel  right  away.  Let  it  come  as  an  after- 
thought— a  great  public  need.  The  main  thing  will  be  to 
avoid  having  the  other  companies  stirring  up  a  real  Bght 
against  you.  Depend  on  it,  Schryhart  will  be  thinking 
pretty  hard  about  this  whole  business  from  now  on.  As 
for  Merrill — ^well,  if  you  can  show  him  where  he  can  get 
something  out  of  it  for  his  store,  I  guess  he'll  be  for  you." 

It  is  one  of  the  splendid  yet  sinister  fascinations  of  life 
that  there  is  no  tracing  to  their  ultimate  sources  all  the 
winds  of  influence  that  play  upon  a  given  barque — all  rfie 
breaths  of  chance  that  fill  or  desert  our  bellied  or  our  sag- 
ging sails.  We  plan  and  plan,  but  who  by  taking  thought 
can  add  a  cubit  to  his  suture  ?  Who  can  overcome  or  even 

i88 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  PRESS 

assist  the  Providence  that  shapes  our  ends,  rough  hew  them 
as  we  may.  Cowperwood  was  now  entering  upon  a  great 
public  career,  and  the  various  editors  and  pubhc  pencmali- 
ties  of  the  city  were  watching  him  with  interest.  Augustus 
M.  Haguenin,  a  free  agent  with  his  oigan,  the  Pressy  and 
yet  not  free,  either,  because  he  was  harnessed  to  the  neces- 
sity of  making  his  paper  pay,  was  most  interested.  Lack- 
ing the  commanding  magnetism  of  a  man  like  MacDon- 
aid,  he  was  nevertheless  an  honest  man,  weU-4ntenti<med, 
thoughtful,  careful,  Haguenin,  ever  since  the  outcome  of 
Cowperwood's  gas  transaction,  had  been  intensely  interested 
in  the  latter's  career.  It  seemed  to  him  diat  Cowperwood 
was  probably  destined  to  become  a  significant  figure. 
Raw,  glittering  force,  however,  compounded  of  the  cruel 
Machiavellianism  of  nature,  if  it  be  but  Machiavellian, 
seems  to  exercise  a  profound  attraction  for  the  convention- 
ally  .rooted.  Your  cautious  citizen  of  average  means,  look- 
ing 'out  through  the  eye  of  his  dull  world  of  seemine  fact, 
is  often  the  first  to  foi^ive  or  cond<me  the  grim  butcnenes 
of  theory  by  which  the  strong  rise.  Haguenin,  observing 
Cowperwood,  conceived  of  him  as  a  man  perhaps  as  much 
sinned  against  as  sinning  a  man  who  would  be  faithful  to 
friends,  one  who  could  De  relied  upon  in  hours  of  great 
stress.  As  it  happened,  the  Haguenins  were  neighbors  of 
the  Cowperwoods,  and  since  those  dai^  when  the  latter 
had  attemi  Bted  unsuccttsfully  to  enter  Qiicago  society  this 
family  had  been  as  aaqytable  at  uiy  of  raose  who  had 
remamed  friendly. 

And  so,  when  Cowperwood  arrived  one  day  at  the  office 
of  the  Press  in  a  blowing  snow-storm — it  was  just  before 
the  Christmas  holidays — Haguenin  was  glad  to  see  him. 
"It's  certainly  real  winter  weather  we*re  having  now,  isn't 
it?"  he  observed,  cheerfully.  "How  goes  the  North 
Chicago  Street  Railway  business?"  For  months  he,  with 
the  other  publishers,  had  been  aware  that  the  whc^e  North 
Side  was  to  be  made  over  by  fine  cable-tracks,  power- 
houses, and  handsome  cars;  and  there  already  was  talk 
that  some  better  arrangonoit  was  to  be  made  to  bring  the 
passengers  into  the  down-town  section. 

"Mr.  Haguenin,"  said  Cowperwood,  smilingly — he  was 
arrayed  in  a  htxvy  fur  coat,  with  a  odlar     beaver  and 

189 


THE  TITAN 


diiving-gauntlets  of  dogskin — "we  have  reached  the  place 
in  this  street-railway  problem  on  the  North  Side  whe'«  we 
are  going  to  require  the  assistance  of  die  newspapers,  or 
at  least  their  friendly  support.  At  present  our  principal 
difficulty  is  that  all  our  lines,  when  they  come  down-town* 
•top  at  Lake  Street— just  this  side  of  the  bridges.  That 
means  a  long  walk  for  everybody  to  all  the  streets  f  outh  of 
it,  and,  as  you  probably  know,  there  has  been  considerable 
complaint.  Besides  that,  this  river  traffic  is  beonning  more 
andjmore  what  I  may  sav  it  has  been  ibr  years — an  in- 
tolerable nuisance.  We  nave  all  suffered  from  it.  No 
effort  has  ever  been  made  to  regulate  it,  and  because  it  is 
so  heavy  I  doubt  whether  it  ever  can  be  systematized  in 
any  satisfactory  way.  The  best  thing  in  the  long  run  would 
be  to  tunnel  under  the  river;  but  that  is  radi  an  expensive 
proposition  that,  as  things  are  now,  we  are  in  no  position 
to  undertake  it.  The  traffic  on  the  North  Side  does  not 
warrant  it.  It  really  does  not  warrant  lk»  reconstrucdmi 
of  the  three  bridges  iidiich  we  now  use  at  State,  Dearborn, 
and  Clark;  yet,  if  we  introduce  the  cable  system,  which 
we  now  propose,  these  bridges  will  have  to  be  done  over. 
It  seems  to  me,  seeing  that  this  is  an  enterprise  in  which 
the  public  is  as  much  interested  almost  as  we  are,  that  it 
would  only  be  fair  if  the  city  should  help  pay  for  this  recon- 
struction work.  All  the  land  adjacent  to  these  lines,  and 
the  property  served  by  them,  will  be  greatly  enhanced  in 
value.  The  city's  taxing  power  will  rise  tremendously. 
I  have  talked  to  several  financiers  here  in  Chicago,  and 
they  agree  with  me;  but,  as  is  usual  in  all  such  cases,  I  find 
that  some  of  the  politicians  are  against  me.  Since  I  have 
taken  charge  of  the  North  Chicago  company  the  atdtude  of 
one  or  two  papers  has  not  been  any  too  friendly."  (In  the 
Chronicle^  controlled  by  Schryhart,  there  had  already  been 
a  number  of  references  to  the  probability  that  now,  since 
Cowperwood  and  his  friends  were  in  charge,  the  sky- 
rocketing tactics  of  the  old  Lake  View,  Hyde  Park,  and 
other  gas  orEanizadons  would  be  repeated.   Braxton's  Globe^ 


gested  that  it  hoped  that  no  such  methods  would  be  re- 
peated !.ere.)  "Perhaps  you  may  know,"  Cowperwood 
coDtintied,  "that  we  have  a  very  sweeping  pn^ramme  of 

190 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  PRESS 


improvement  in  mind,  if  we  can  obtain  pnpet  pnUic  oon- 
sideration  and  assistance." 

At  this  point  he  reached  down  in  one  of  his  pockets  and 
drew  forth  astutely  drafted  maps  and  blue-prints,  especial- 
ly prepared  for  this  occasion.  They  showed  main  cable 
Imes  on  North  Oark,  La  Salle,  and  Wells  streets.  These 
lines  coming  down-town  converged  at  Illinois  and  La  Salle 
streets  on  the  North  Side — ^and  though  Cowpexwood  made 
no  referer*'^  to  it  at  the  moment,  diey  were  indicated  on 
the  map  .  i  red  as  running  over  or  under  the  river  at  La 
Salle  Street,  where  was  no  Dridge,and  emerging  [therefrom, 
followirT  a  loop  along  La  Salle  to  Munroe,  to  Dearborn, 
to  Rar.aolph,  and  thence  into  the  tunnel  again.  Cowper- 
wood  allowed  Haguenin  to  gather  the  very  interesting  traffic 
significance  of  it  all  before  he  proceeded. 

"On  the  map,  Mr.  Haguemn,  I  have  indicated  a  i>lan 
which,  if  we  can  gain  the  consent  of  the  city,  will  obviate 
any  quarrel  as  to  the  great  expense  of  reconstructing  the 
bridges,  and  will  make  use  of  a  piece  of  property  which  is 
absolutely  without  value  to  the  dty  at  present,  nut  whidi 
can  be  made  into  something  of  ^'ast  convenience  to  the 
public  I  am  referrii^  as  vou  see" — he  laid  an  indicative 
finger  on  the  map  in  Mr.  Ha^enin's  handf— '*to  the  old 
La  Saile  Street  tunnel,  which  is  now  boarded  up  and  abso- 
lutely of  no  use  to  any  one.  It  was  built  ap{.arentlv  under 
a  misapprdienstoQ  as  to  the  grade  the  average  loaded  wagon 
could  negotiate.  When  it  was  found  to  be  unprofitable  it 
was  sM  to  the  and  locked  up.  If  you  have  ever  been 
through  it  you  know  what  omdition  it  is  in.  My  engineers 
tell  me  the  walls  are  leaking,  and  that  there  is  great  danger 
of  a  cave-in  unless  it  is  very  speedily  repaired.  I  am  also 
told  that  it  will  require  about  four  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars to  put  it  .'  uitable  condition  for  use.  My  theory  is 
that  if  the  Nc  Chicagr.  Street  Railway  is  wilhng  to  go 
to  this  expense  lor  the  sake  of  solving  this  bridge-crush 
problem,  and  giving  the  residents  of  the  North  Side  a 
sensible  and  uninterrupted  service  into  the  business  heart, 
the  dty  ought  to  be  vnlling  to  make  us  a  present  of  dra 
tunnel  for  the  time  bang,  or  at  least  a  long  lease  at  a  purely 
nominal  rental." 

Cowpeiwood  paiMd  to  see  whtt  Haguenin  ssy* 

191 


THE  TITAN 


i  : 


The  latter  was  looking  at  the  map  gravely,  wonderins 
whether  it  was  fair  for  Cowperwood  to  make  this  demand, 
wondering  whether  the  city  should  grant  it  to  him  without 
compensation,  wondering  whether  the  bridge-traffic  prob* 
lem  was  as  serious  as  he  pointed  out,  wondering,  indeed* 
whether  this  whole  move  wu  not  a  clever  ruse  to  ditain 
something  for  nothing. 

"And  what  is  this?"  he  asked,  lasring  a  finger  on  the 
aforementioned  loop. 

"That,"  replied  Cowperwood,  "is  the  only  method  we  have 
been  able  to  neure  out  of  serving  the  down-town  business  sec- 
dmi  and  the  North  Side,  and  of  solving  this  bridge  problon. 
If  we  obtain  the  tunnel,  as  I  hope  we  shall,  all  the  cars  of 
these  North  Side  lines  will  emerp;e  here" — he  pointed  to  La 
Salle  and  Randolph — "and  swmg  around  —  that  is,  they 
will  if  the  city  council  give  us  the  right  of  way.  I  think, 
of  course,  there  can  be  no  reasonable  objection  to  that. 
There  is  no  reason  why  the  citizens  of  the  North  Side 
shouldn't  have  as.  comfortable  an  access  to  the  business 
heart  as  those  of  the  West  or  South  Side." 

"None  in  the  world,"  Mr.  Haguenin  was  compelled  to 
admit.  "Are  you  satisfied,  however,  that  the  council  and 
die  city  should  sanction  the  gift  of  a  loop  of  this  kind  yrithr 
out  some  form  of  compensation?" 

"I  see  no  reason  why  they  shouldn't,"  replied  Cowper- 
wood, in  a  somewhat  injured  tcme.  "There  has  never  been 
any  question  of  compensation  where  other  improvements 
have  been  sugeested  for  the  city  in  the  past.  The  South 
Side  companynas  been  allowed  to  turn  in  a  loop  around 
State  and  XVabash.  The  Chicago  City  Passensn'  Railway 
has  a  loop  in  Adams  and  Washm^on  streets. 

"Quite  so,"  said  Mr.  Haguemn,  vaguely.  "That  is 
true.  But  this  tunnel,  now — do  you  think  that  should  fsdl 
in  the  same  category  of  public  beneficences  ?^* 

At  the  same  time  ne  could  not  help  thinking,  as  helooked 
at  the  proposed  loop  indicated  on  the  map,  that  the  new 
cable  line,  with  its  string  of  trailers,  would  give  down-town 
Chicago  a  truly  metropolitan  air  and  would  provide  a 
splendid  outlet  for  the  North  Side.  The  streets  in  question 
were  magnificent  commercial  thoroughfares,  crowded  even 
at  this  date  with  structures  five»  nx,  sevoi,  ai^  even  eight 

193 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  PRESS 

stones  high,  and  brimming  with  heavy  streams  of  eager 
jife— young,  fresh,  optimistic.  Because  of  the  narrow  area 
into  which  the  commercial  life  of  the  city  tended  to  con- 
gest itself,  this  property  and  these  streets  were  immensely 
valuable — amo^e  the  most  valuable  in  the  whole  city. 
Also  he  observed  diat  if  diis  loop  did  come  here  its  cars, 
on  their  return  trip  along  Dearborn  Street,  would  pass  by 
his  very  door^the  office  of  the  Pnsx— thereby  enhancing 
the  value  of  that  property  of  which  he  was  the  owner. 

"  I  certainl3r  do,  Mr.  Haguenin,"  returned  Cowperwood, 
eniphatically,  in  answer  to  his  query.  "Per>onally,  I  should 
think  Chicago  would  be  ^ad  to  pay  a  bonus  to  get  its 
street-railway  service  straightened  out,  especially  where  a 
corporation « omes  forward  with  a  liberal,  conservative  pro- 
gramme such  as  this.  It  means  millions  in  growth  of  prop- 
etty  values  on  the  North  Side.  It  means  millions  to  the 
business  heart  to  have  this  loop  system  laid  down  just  as  I 
sueeest." 

He  put  his  finger  firmly  on  vhe  map  whic*.  ne  had 
brought,  and  Haguenin  agreed  with  him  that  the  plan  was 
undoubtedly  a  sound  business  proposition.  "Personally, 
I  should  be  the  last  to  complain,"  tie  added,  "for  the  line 
passes  my  door.  At  the  same  time  this  tunnel,  as  I  under- 
stand it,  cost  in  the  neighborhood  of  eight  hundred  thou- 
sand or  a  million  dollars.  It  is  a  deUcate  problem.  I 
should  like  to  know  what  tV.e  other  editors  think  of  it,  and 
how  the  city  council  itself  would  feel  toward  it," 

Cowperwood  nodded.  "Certainly,  certainly,"  he  said. 
"With  pleasure.  I  would  not  come  here  at  all  if  I  did  not 
feel  that  I  had  a  perfectly  legitimate  proposition — one  that 
the  press  of  the  city  should  unite  in  supporting.  Where  a 
corporation  such  as  ours  is  facing  lar^e  expenditures,  which 
have  to  be  financed  by  outside  capital,  it  is  only  natural 
that  we  should  wish  to  allay  useless,  groundless  opposittCHi 
in  advance.   I  hope  we  may  cnnmand  your  support."  - 

"I  hope  you  may,"  raulcd  Mr.  Haguenin.  Tbey  parted 
the  best  of  friends. 

The  othef  publishers,  guardians  of  the  city's  privileges, 
were  not  quite  so  genial  as  Haguenin  in  their  approval 
of  Cowperwood's  propositicm.  "Die  use  <^  a  tunod  and 
7  '9J 


THE  TITAN 

several  of  the  most  important  down-town  streets  might 
readily  be  essential  to  the  development  of  Cowperwood's 
North  Side  schemes,  but  the  gift  of  them  was  a  different 
matter.  Already,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  various  publishers 
and  editors  had  been  consulted  by  Schryhart,  Merrill,  and 
others  with  a  view  to  discovering  how  they  felt  as  to  this 
new  venture,  and  whether  Cowperwood  would  be  cheerfully 
indorsed  or  not.  Schryhart,  smarting  from  the  wounds  he 
had  received  in  the  gas  war,  viewed  this  new  activity  on 
Cowperwood's  part  vith  a  suspicious  and  envious  tyt. 
To  him  much  more  than  to  the  others  it  spelled  a  new  and 
dangerous  foe  in  the  street-railway  field,  althou^  ^  the 
leading  citizens  of  Chicago  were  interested. 

.?MP??^  one  evening  to  the  Hon.  Walter 

Melville  Hyssop,  editor  and  publisher  of  the  Transcript 
smd  the  Evening  Mail,  whom  he  met  at  the  Union  League, 
^  that  this  fellow  Cowperwood  will  attempt  some  disturb- 
ing coup  in  connection  with  street-railway  affairs.  He  is 
just  the  sort.  I  think,  from  an  editorial  point  of  view,  his 
political  connections  will  bear  watching/'  AU^dy  diere 
were  rumors  abroad  that  McKenty  m^t  have  aometliuig 
to  do  with  the  new  company. 

Hyssop,  a  medium-sized,  ornate,  omservative  person, 
was  not  so  sure.  "  Wc  shall  find  out  soon  enough,  no  doubt, 
wiat  propositions  Mr.  Cowperwood  has  in  hand,"  he  re- 
marked. "He  is  very  eneigetk  and  capaUe,  a«  I  imder- 
stand  It. 

Hyssop  and  Schryhart,  as  well  as  the  latter  and  Merrill, 
had  been  social  friends  for  years  and  years. 

After  his  call  on  Mr.  Haguenin,  Cowperwood's  naturally 
selective  and  self-protective  judgment  led  him  next  to  the 
office  of  the  Inquirer^  old  General  MacDonald's  paper,  iHieie 
he  found  that  because  of  rhuematism  and  the  severe,  in- 
clement weather  of  Chicago,  the  old  General  had  sailed 
only  a  few  days  before  for  Italy.  His  son,  an  aggressive, 
mercantile  type  of  youth  of  thirty-two,  and  a  managing 
editor  by  the  name  of  Du  Bois  were  acting  in  his  stead. 
In  the  son,  Truman  Leslie  MacDonald,  an  intense,  cahn, 
and  penetrating  young  man,  Cowperwood  encountered  some 
one  who,  like  himself;  saw  life  only  from  the  point  of  view 
of  sharp,  self-centered,  personal  advantage.   What  was  he, 

194 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  PRESS 


Truman  Leslie  MacIXmald,  to  derive  from  any  given 
situation,  and  how  was  he  to  make  the  Inquirer  an  even 
ereater  property  than  it  had  been  under  his  father  before 
him?  He  did  not  propose  to  be  overwhelmed  bv  the  old 
General's  rather  flowery  reputati<m.  At  tlw  same  time 
he  meant  to  become  imposingly  rich.  An  active  member 
of  a  voune  and  vgry  smart  set  which  had  been  growing  up 
on  tne  I^rth  Side,  he  rode,  drove,  was  instrumental  in 
organizing  a  new  and  exdusive  cotmtry  dub,  and  despised 
the  rank  and  file  as  unsuited  to  the  fine  atmosphere  to 
which  he  aspired.  Mr.  CliflFord  Du  Bois,  the  managing 
editor,  was  a  cool  reprobate  of  forty,  maiqiwradii^  at  a 
gentleman,  and  using  the  Inquirer  in  subtle  ways  for  further- 
ing his  personal  ends,  and  that  under  the  old  General's  very 
nose.  He  was  osseous,  sandy^iaired,  blue-eyed,  with  a 
keen,  formidable  nose  and  a  solid  chin.  Clifford  Du  Bois 
was  always  careful  never  to  let  his  left  hand  know  what  his 


It  was  this  sapient  pair  that  received  Cowperwood  in  the 
old  General's  absence,  first  in  Mr.  Du  Bois's  room  and  then 
in  that  of  Mr.  MadX}naId.  The  latter  had  already  heard 
much  of  Cowpcrwood's  doings.  Men  who  had  been  con- 
nected with  the  old  eas  war — Jordzn  Jules,  for  instance, 
president  of  tlie  old  ffordi  Chicago  Gas  Company,  and 
Hudson  Baker,  president  of  the  old  West  Chicago  Gas 
Company— 4iad  denounced  him  long  before  as  a  bucaneer 
who  had  pirated  them  out  of  very  comfortable  sinecures. 
Here  he  was  now  invading  the  North  Chicago  street-railway 
field  and  coming  with  startling  schemes  xbr  the  reorganiza- 
tion of  die  down-town  businos  heart.  Why  shouldn't  the 
city  have  something  in  return;  or,  better  yet,  those  ^o 
helped  to  formulate  the  public  opinion,  so  influential  in  the 
success  of  Cowperwood's  plans  ?  Truman  Leslie  MacDonald, 
as  has  been  said,  did  not  see  life  from  his  father's  pmnt  <^ 
view  at  all.  He  had  in  mind  a  sharp  bargain,  vnitch  he 
could  drive  with  Cowperwood  during  the  eld  gendewan't 
absence.  The  Genersu  need  never  know. 

"I  understand  your  point  of  view,  Mr.  Oiwpefwood,** 
he  commented,  loftily,  but  where  does  the  city  come  in? 
I  see  very  deariy  how  important  this  is  to  the  pec^le  of 
the  Nordn  Side,  and  evoi  to  the  merdiantt  and  ical-crtate 


ight  hand  did. 


"95 


THE  TITAN 


owners  in  the  down-town  section;  but  that  simply  means 
•nV*i "  J*"  important  to  you.   Undoubtedly,  it 

wi  j  help  the  city,  but  the  city  is  growing,  anyhow,  and  that 
mU  help  you.  I  ve  said  all  along  that  these  public  fran- 
diMcs  were  worth  more  thai,  they  used  to  be  worth.  No- 
body seems  to  see  it  very  clearly  at  yM»  but  it's  true 
just  the  same.  That  tunnel  is  worth  more  now  than  the 
d«y  rt  was  built.  Even  if  the  city  can't  use  it,  somebody 
can.  ' 


He  was  meaning  to  indicate  a  rival  car  line. 
Cowperwood  bristled  internally. 
"That's  all  very  well,"  he  said,  preserving  his  surface 
composur^  but  why  make  fish  of  one  and  flesh  of  an- 
otherf  The  South  Side  company  has  a  loop  for  which  it 
never  paid  a  dollar.  So  has  the  Chicago  Cfity  Paswnger 
KaUway.  The  North  Side  company  is  planning  moreex- 
tennve  improvenMnts  than  were  ever  undertaken  by  any 
single  company  before.  I  hardly  think  it  is  fair  to  raise 
the  question  of  compensation  and  a  franchise  tax  at  this 
tUDfe,  and  m  connection  with  this  one  company  only/* 

Um— well,  that  may  be  true  of  the  other  companies. 
1  he  bouth  bide  company  had  those  streets  long  ago.  Thev 
mwgy  connected  them  up.   But  this  tunnel,  now-that's 

5»at  dfd^'t^k""'  °^  ********  ^ 

"Quite  true— to  help  out  men  who  saw  that  they  couldn't 
make  another  dollar  out  of  it,"  said  Cowperwood,  acidly. 

But  It  s  of  no  use  to  the  city.  It  will  cave  in  pretty  soon 
It  It  isn  t  repaired.  Why,  the  consent  of  property-owners 
alon^  along  the  line  of  this  loop,  is  going  to  aggregate  a 
considerable  sum.  It  seems  to  me  instead  of  hamperine  a 
great  work  of  this  kind  the  pubUc  ought  to  do  everything 
m  Its  power  to  assist  it.  It  means  giving  a  new  metropoli- 
tan Bavor  to  this  down-town  section.  It  is  time  Chicago 
^as  getting  oi  t  of  its  swaddling  clothes." 

Air.  MacDpnald,  the  younger,  shook  his  head.  He  saw 
oearty  enough  the  significance  of  the  points  made,  but  he 
was  jealous  of  Cowperwood  and  ofhis  success  This  loop 
traichise  and  tunnel  aft  meant  millions  for  some  one. 
my  shouldnt  t^ie  be  something  in  it  for  him?  He 
caiM  in  Mr.  Du  Bots  and  went  over  the  proposittoo  mtk 

196. 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  PRESS 

him.  Quite  whlioiit  effort  the  latter  wiMed  the  diift  of 

the  situation. 

"It's  an  excellent  proposition,"  he  said.  "I  don't  see 
but  that  tlie  city  should  have  somethii^  tho^i.  Public 
sentiment  i»  rather  against  gifts  to  corporatioos  just  at 

present.'* 

Cowpenvood  caught  die  drift  ^at  was  in  yoimg 
MacDonald's  mind. 

*'Well,  what  would  you  suggest  as  a  fair  rate  of  com- 
pensation to  the  cityr'  he  awked,  cautiously,  wonder^ 
whether  ihis  aggressive  youth  wmild  go  so  far  as  to  eomn 
himself  in  any  way. 

**0h,  wdl,  as  to  that,"  MacDonald  replied,  with  a  c 
precatory  wave  of  his  hand,  "I  couldn't  say.    It  ought  » 
Dear  a  reasonable  relationship  to  the  value  of  the  utiir 
as  it  now  stands.   I  should  want  to  think  that  over, 
shouldn't  want  to  see  the  dty  demand  anvthing  unreas^ 
able.   Certainly,  though,  there  is  a  privilege  here  that  -i 
worth  something." 

Cowperwood  flared  inwardly.  His  greatest  weakacit.  tf 
he  had  one,  was  that  he  could  but  ill  brook  opposition  of  my 
kind.  This  young  upstart,  with  his  thin,  cool  face 
sharp,  hard  eyesl  He  would  have  liked  to  tell  him  an  hi^ 
paper  to  go  to  the  deviL  He  went  away,  hoping  tint  he 
could  influence  the  Inquirer  in  smne  other  way  i^k^  die 
old  General's  return. 

As  he  was  sitting  next  morning  in  his  office  in  North  Clar' 
Street  he  was  aroused  by  the  still  novel-sounding  b  '  of  tii 
telephone — one  of  the  earliest  in  use — on  the  wak      "k  of 
him.   After  a  pariey  with  his  secretary,  he  was  ir,  rnwrf 
that  a  gentleman  connected  with  the  Inquirer  wisned  to 
speak  with  him. 

"This  is  the  Inquirer,**  said  a  voice  which  Cowperwood, 
his  ear  to  the  receiver,  thought  he  recognized  as  that  of 
young  Tieiman  MacDonald,  the  General's  son.  "Yqu 
wanted  to  know,"  omtinued  the  voice,  "what  would  be 
considered  adequate  compensation  so  far  as  that  tumid 
matter  is  concerned.   Can  you  hear  me?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Cowperwood. 

"Well,  I  should  not  care  to  influence  your  judement  one 
way  or  the  other;  but  if  my  opinion  were  asked  I  should 

197 


THE  TITAN 

t!l^v\^^^  thootMid  doUan'  worth  of  North  Chicafo 
Street  Railway  stock  would  be  satisfactofy." 
The  voice  was  young,  clear,  Keely. 
lo  whom  would  you  suggett  that  it  might  be  paid?" 
Ujwperwood  asked,  softly,  quite  genially. 

•oand  ju(^Mt "  ™«*»«  be  left  to  your  rtty 

u^^i^u^V^^i'  receiver  was  hung  up. 


;  goiP'»  to  be  held  up 


.    .  -  .   «■••••«..    *  uuii  t  ncca  TO  oe.  It 

«n  t  worth  it.    Not  at  present,  anyhow."   His  teeth  set. 

He  was  underestimating  Mr.  Truman  LcsUe  MacDonald, 
prmapally  because  he  did  not  like  him.  He  thought  his 
fattier  might  return  and  oust  him.  It  was  one  of  the  most 
vital  mistakes  he  ever  made  in  his  life. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


THs  comMo  or  mrmAim  ruacm 

DURING  this  period  of  what  nug^t  have  been  called 
financial  and  commercial  "»;8S,  the  affairs  of  Aileen 
and  Cowperwood  had  bee**  .ertain  extent  smoothed 
over.  Each  summer  nofv>  uy  to  take  Aflecn't  mind  off 
herself  and  partly  to  satisl  lis  own  desire  to  see  the  world 
and  collect  objects  of  art,  u.  which  he  was  becoming  more 
and  more  interested,  it  was  Cowperwood's  custcmi  to  mk» 
with  his  wife  a  short  trip  abroad  or  to  foreisn  American 
lands,  visiting  in  these  two  years  Russia,  Scandinavia, 
Argentine,  Chili,  and  Mexico.  Their  plan  was  to  leave  in 
May  or  June  with  the  outward  rush  oi  traffic,  and  return 
in  September  or  early  October.  Hit  idea  was  to  aoothe 
Aileen  as  much  as  possible,  to  fill  her  mind  with  pleasing 
anticipations  as  to  her  eventual  todal  triumph  somewhere 
— m  riew  Yoric  of  LoodoBy  if  not  Chicay>  to  make  htt 
feel  that  in  spite  of  hit  fkymal  deaenwD  be  wm  •»& 
spiritually  loyal. 

By  now  amo  Cowperwood  wai  so  direwd  diat  he  had  iht 
ability  to  simulate  an  affection  and  practise  a  gallantry 
which  he  did  not  feel,  or,  rathe^  that  was  not  backed  by 
real  passion.  He  was  tlw  kmiI  of  attention;  he  would  buy 
her  flowers,  jewels,  knickknacks,  and  ornaments;  he  would 
see  that  her  comfort  was  looked  after  to  the  last  detail;  and 
yet,  at  the  very  same  moment,  perhaps,  he  would  be  look- 
mg  cautiously  about  to  see  what  life  might  offer  in  the 
way  of  illicit  entertainment.  Aileen  knew  this,  although 
she  could  not  prove  it  K  i  .  ^le.  ^  At  Uhe  same  tune  she 
had  an  affection  and  ;  rt  idir*  ul  m  tot  the  m»»  ^riiidi 
gripped  her  in  spite  o:  'itrsdf. 

Yoa  have,  perhaps  pi'^ired  to  ourseUF  tlie  mood  ci 
■one  geaenl  who  1l4  *>  p  ...aps  rii£:nA  a  gnat  dafint; 

'99 


THE  TITAN 

the  employee  who  after  years  of  faithful  service  finds  him- 
self discharged.  What  shall  life  say  to  the  loving  when 
their  love  is  no  longer  of  any  value,  when  all  that  has  been 
placed  upon  the  altar  of  affection  has  been  found  to  be  a 
vain  sacrifice?  Philosophy?  Give  diat  to  dolls  to  play 
with.  Religion?  Seek  first  the  metaphysical-mindecf, 
Aileen  was  no  longer  the  lithe,  forceful,  dynamic  girl  of 
1865,  when  Cowperwood  first  met  her.  She  was  still 
beautiful,  it  is  true,  a  fair,  full-blown,  matronly  creature 
not  more  than  thirty-five,  looking  perhaps  thirty,  feeline, 
alas,  that  she  was  a  girl  and  still  as  attractive  as  ever.  It 
is  a  grim  thing  to  a  wonian,  however  fortunately  placed,  to 
realize  that  age  is  creeping  on,  and  that  love,  that  singing 
will-o'-the-wisp,  is  fading  into  the  ultimate  dark.  Aileen, 
within  the  hour  of  her  greatest  triumph,  had  seen  love  die. 
It  was  useless  to  tell  herself,  as  she  aid  sometimes,  that  it 
might  come  back,  revive.  Her  ultimately  realistic  tem- 
perament told  her  this  could  never  be.  Though  she  had 
touted  Rita  Sohlberg,  she  was  fully  aware  that  Cowper- 
wood's  original  constancy  was  gone.  She  was  no  longer 
liappy.  Love  was  dead.  That  sweet  illusion,  with  its 
pearly  pink  for  heart  and  borders,  that  laughing  cherub 
that  lures  with  Cupid's  mouth  and  misty  eye,  that  young 
tendril  of  the  vine  of  life  that  whispers  of  eternal  spring- 
rime,  that  calls  and  calls  where  aching,  wearied  feet  by 
lenon  follow,  was  no  longer  in  existence. 

In  vain  the  tears,  the  storms,  the  self-tortures;  in  vain  the 
looks  in  the  mirror,  the  studied  examination  of  plump,  sweet 
features  still  fresh  and  invitine.  One  day,  at  the  sight  of 
tired  circles  under  her  eyes,  she  ripped  from  her  neck  a 
lovely  ruche  that  she  was  adjusting  and,  throwing  herself 
on  her  bed,  cried  as  though  her  heart  would  break.  Why 
primp?  Why  ornament?  Her  Frank  did  not  love  her. 
What  to  her  now  was  a  handsome  residence  in  Michigan 
Avenue,  the  refinements  of  a  French  boudoir,  or  clothmg 
that  ran  the  gamut  of  the  dressmaker's  art,  hats  that  were 
like  orchids  blooming  in  serried  rows?  In  vain,  in  vaini 
Like  the  raven  that  perched  above  the  lintel  of  the  door, 
sad  memory  was  here,  grave  in  her  widow  weeds,  crying 
"never  more."  Aileen  knew  that  the  sweet  illusi(m 
which  had  bound  Cowperwood  to  her  for  a  time  had  gone 

200 


THE  COMING  OF  STEPHANIE  PLATOW 


and  would  never  come  again.  He  was  here.  His  step 
was  in  the  room  mornings  and  evenings;  at  night  for  long 
prosaic,  uninterrupted  periods  she  could  hear  him  breath- 
ing by  her  side,  his  hand  on  her  body.  There  were  other 
nights  when  he  was  not  there — ^when  he  was  "out  dF  the 
city" — and  she  resigned  herself  to  accept  his  excuses  at 
their  face  value.  Wiy  quarrel?  she  asked  herself.  What 
could  she  do?   She  wa«  waiting,  waiting,  but  for  what? 

And  Cowperwood,  noting  the  strange,  unalterable 
changes  which  time  works  in  us  all,  the  inward  lap  of  the 
marks  of  age,  the  fluted  recession  of  that  splmdor  and 
radiance  which  is  youth,  sighed  at  times  perhaps,  but 
turned  his  face  to  that  dawn  which  is  forever  breaking 
where  youth  is.  Not  for  him  that  poetic  loyalty  vriuch 
substitutes  for  the  perfection  of  young  love  it5  memories,  or 
takes  for  the  glitter  of  passion  and  desire  that  once  was  the 
happy  thoughts  of  companionship—the  crystal  memories 
that  like  early  dews  congealed  remain  beaded  recollections 
to  comfort  or  torture  for  the  end  of  former  joys.  On  the 
contrary,  after  the  vanishing  of  Rita  Sohlberg,  with  all  that 
she  meant  in  the  wav  of  a  delicate  insouciance  which  Aileen 
had  never  known,  his  temperament  ached,  for  he  must 
have  something  like  that.  Truth  to  say,  he  must  always 
have  youth,  the  illusion  of  beauty,  vanity  in  womanhood, 
the  novelty  of  a  new,  untested  temperament,  quite  as  he 
must  have  pictures,  old  porcelain,  music,  a  mansion,  il- 
luminated missals,  power,  the  applause  of  the  great,  un- 
thinking world. 

As  has  been  said,  this  promiscuous  attitude  ot  Cowper- 
wood's  part  was  the  natural  flowering  out  of  a  temperament 
that  was  chronically  promiscuous,  intellectually  uncer- 
tain, and  philosophically  anarchistic.  From  one  point  of 
view  it  might  have  been  said  of  him  that  he  was  seeking 
the  realization  of  an  ideal,  yet  to  one's  amazement  our  very 
ideals  change  at  times  and  leave  us  floundering  in  the  dark. 
What  is  an  ideal,  anyhow?  A  wraith,  a  mist,  a  perfume  in 
the  wind,  a  dream  of  fair  water.   The  soul-yearning  of  a 

girl  like  Antoinette  Nowak  was  a  little  too  straired  for 
im.  It  was  too  ardent,  too  clinging,  and  he  had  gradually 
extricated  himself,  not  without  difficulty,  from  that  par- 
ticular entaogienieat.  Since  then  he  liad  been  mttmate 

aoi 


THE  TITAN 

TiS  ^o«nenX°'"  ^P^^  P*"®****  but  to  no  great  satis- 
W^lnS^'^  ^"^f^'  Jessie  Belle  Hinsdale!  Toma 
Lewis,  Hilda  Jewell;  but  Aey  shaU  be  names  merely! 

of  nnl^f  ?  stenographer,  one  the  daughter 

of  one  of  his  stock  patrons,  one  a  church-worker,  a  solicitor 

home.  It  was  a  pathetic  mess  at  times,  but  so  are  all  de- 
rh^  the  accustomed  drift  of  things.  In 

nr^^l  fr^^  .language  of  Napoleon,  one  cannot  make  an 
onidette  without  cracking  a  number  of  eggs. 

The  coming  of  Stenhanie  Platow,  Russian  Jewess  on 
o»e  side  of  her  fam.fy  Southwestern  Americi  ^the 
f       ^-  ^^""'"^  ''^  Cowperwood's  life.    She  was  tall, 

E!f  i^MK"^""''/"^""^'  °f  ^'^e  optimism  of 

SkSk  2"*^       endowed  with  a  strange  fatalism 

ttemetheronshipboardonthewaytoGotebotK.  Herfath- 
cr,  Isadore  Platow,  was  a  wealthy  furrier  of  diicago.  K 
was  a  large,  meaty,  oily  type  of  man— a  kind  of  ambUnc 
S^;S?rS  "^e.  with  the  usual  sound  cornel 

1.^1-""/  ""l^v^  ^"'^  ^"  philosophy 

which  led  him  to  believe^first  one  thing  and  then  another 

He  SSf  an  oT^"  'Ti/f^'^^  definitely  with  his  busiW 
He  was  an  admirer  of  Henry  George  and  of  so  altruistic  a 
programme  as  that  of  Robert  Owen,  and,  also,  in  hS  way! 
T^T^-5"°K  ^."^  ¥^  Susetia  Osbom!  a 

lithf  nS^?,M**°  T,  bookkeeper.   Mrs.  Platow  was 

rK,n.!^-    V"^^''''^"''  ^^^*y«  to  tbe  main  social 

chance-in  other  words,  a  climber.  She  was  shrewd  enough 
to  reahw  that  a  knowledge  of  books  and  art  and  cunent 
events  was  essential,  and  so  she  "went  in"  for  thJsc  twJS^ 
r^iVf  •  .^'^T  ft*  temperaments  of  parents  blend  and 
i^^^'lA^'  ^^'^^'^^^  Stephanie  grew  up  she  had 
S^!J^.l,  ^H^'^'y  ^^'"^  of  bar  father's 

soul  ""fC     '^baractenstics-an  interesting  variabiUty  of 

71'         i""'^'  ''t^^'  ^'tb  a  strange 

moodiness  of  heart  and  a  recessive,  fulgurous  gleam  in  her 
chestnut-brown  almost  brownish-Macf  eyes.  *  ShT  had  a 
full,  sensuous,  Cupid's  mouth,  a  dreamy  and  even  languish- 
mg  expression,  a  naceful  neck,  and  a  heavy,  dark,  and  yet 
Plewingly  modeI«a  face.  From  both  her  fi^r  and  ^oiS 


THE  COMING  OF  STEPHANIE  PLATOW 

she  had  inherited  a  penchant  for  art,  literature,  philosophy, 
and  music.  Already  at  eighteen  she  was  dreaming  of 
painting,  singing,  writing  poetry,  writing  books,  acting — 
anything  and  everything.  Serene  in  her  own  judgment  of 
what  was  worth  while,  she  was  like  to  lay  stress  on  any  silly 
mood  or  fad,  thinking  it  exquisite — ^the  last  word.  Finally, 
she  was  a  rank  voluptuary,  dreaming  dreams  of  passionate 
union  with  first  one  and  then  another  type  of  artist,  poet, 
musician — ^the  whole  gamut  of  the  arrisdc  and  emotional 
world. 

Cowperwood  first  saw  her  on  board  the  Centurion  one 
June  morning,  as  the  ship  lay  at  dock  in  New  York.  He 
and  Aileen  were  en  route  for  Norway,  she  and  her  father 
and  mother  for  Denmark  and  Switzerland.  She  was  hang- 
ing over  the  starboard  rail  looking  at  a  flock  of  wide-winged 

uUs  which  were  besieging  the  port  of  the  cook's  galky. 

he  was  musing  soulfuUy— conscious  (fully)  that  she  was 
musing  soulfully.  He  paid  very  little  attenrion  to  her,  ex- 
cept to  note  that  she  was  tall,  rhythmic,  and  that  a  dark- 
gray  plaid  dress,  and  an  immense  veil  of  gray  silk  wound 
about  her  tlroulders  and  waist  and  over  one  arm,  after  the 
manner  of  a  Hindu  shawl,  appeared  to  become  her  much. 
Her  face  seemed  very  sallow,  and  her  eyes  ringed  as  if 
indicating  dyspepsia.  Her  black  hair  under  a  diic  hat 
did  not  escape  his  critical  eve.  Later  she  and  her  father 
appeared  at  the  captain's  table,  to  which  the  Cowperwoods 
had  alto  been  invited. 

Cowperwood  and  Aileen  did  not  know  how  to  take  this 
giri,  though  she  interested  them  both.  They  little  suspected 
the  '^hameleon  character  of  her  souL  Sfaie  was  an  artitt, 
and  as  formless  and  unstable  as  water.  It  was  a  mere  pass- 
ing gloom  that  possessed  her.  Cowperwood  liked  the  semi- 
Jewish  cast  of  her  face,  a  certam  fuUnen  of  the  nwk,  her 
dark,  sleepy  eyes.  But  she  was  much  too  young  and 
nebulous,  ne  thought,  and  he  let  her  pass.  On  this  trip, 
^ch  endured  for  ttn  dayt,  he  saw  much  of  her,  in  different 
moods,  walking  with  a  young  Jew  in  whom  she  seemed 

i greatly  interested,  playing  at  shuffleboard,  reading  solemn- 
y  in  a  comer  out  of  the  readt  <^  the  wind  or  qynry,  sdnl 
usually  looking  naive,  prrtematurally  innocent,  remote, 
dreamy.   At  other  times  she  seemed  possessed  of  a  wild 

203 


THE  TITAN 

animation,  her  eyes  alight,  her  expression  vigorous,  an 
intense  glow  in  her  soul.  Once  he  saw  her  bent  over  a  small 
block,  cuttmg  a  book-plate  with  a  thin  steel  graving 

Because  of  Stephanie's  vouth  and  seeming  unimportance, 
her  lack  of  what  might  be  called  compelling  rosy  charm, 
Aileen  had  become  reasonably  friendly  with  the  girl  Far 
subtler,  even  at  her  years,  than  Aileen,  Stephanie  gathered 
a  venr  good  impression  of  the  former,  of  her  mental  cirth, 
and  how  to  take  her.  She  made  friends  with  her,  made  a 
book-plate  for  her,  made  a  sketch  of  her.  She  confided  to 
Aiieen  that  in  her  own  mind  she  was  destined  for  the 
stage.  It  her  parents  would  permit;  and  Aileen  invited  her 
to  see  tier  hucband  s  pictures  on  their  return.  She  little 
wJ^d'hiife™     <»f  *  Pa«  Stephanie  would  play  in  Cowper- 

The  Cowperwoods,  having  been  put  down  at  Gotebore,  saw 
no  more  of  the  Plato ws  until  late  October.  Then  &Z 
being  lonely,  called  to  see  Stephanie,  and  occasionally  there! 
™   P  *°      South  Side  to  see  the  Cow- 

perwoods. She  hked  to  roam  about  their  house,  to  dream 
£r  .^^r  ^  ^".^^'"f.  the  rich  interior,  with  a  book 

for  company  She  hked  Q)wperwood's  pictures,  his  jades, 
his  nussals,  his  ancient  radiant  glass,    from  talking  with 

^^^^^  "^t^i  M^^^'  re^I  love  for 

tft^  thuigs,  that  her  expressions  of  interest  and  pleasure 

F^r  ^;;;^  make-believe,  based  on  their  value  as  possessions 
For  Stephanie  herself  certain  of  the  illuminated  books  and 
bits  of  glass  had  a  heavy,  sensuous  appeal,  which  only  the 
truly  artistic  can  understand.  They  unlocked  dark  dream 
moods  and  pageants  for  her.    She  responded  to  them^ 

as  IS™         '''J™'  ^PT^Pl^^  """8*  f^o"  them 

as  trom  the  orchestrated  nchness  of  music. 

n;^2j"  n    f      t^^  of  Cowperwood  often. 

?hL  \  '^l"^  u^^-  ***f  ^»  h«  i"*t  buying 

thHJf^'*^  buying  them?  She  had  heard  mucfi  of 
cu!  Pf  "f,o/rt'stic-the  people  who  made  a  show  of  art. 

h««?ri  M  remembered  his  hrge,  comprehensive,  em- 

Sr^JlSS^lf'u^  ^y^'.  that  seemed  to  blaze  with  intelligence. 
He  nemed  to  her  quite  obv^jusly  a  more  foro^ul  ai^  sig- 


THE  COMING  OF  STEPHANIE  PLaTOW 

nificant  man  than  her  father,  and  yet  she  could  not  have 

said  why.  He  always  seemed  so  trigly  dressed,  so  well 
put  together.  There  was  a  friendly  warmth  about  all 
that  he  said  or  did,  thou^  he  said  or  did  little.  She  felt 
that  his  eyes  were  mockmg,  that  back  in  his  soul  there 
wr  s  some  kind  of  humor  over  something  which  she  did  not 
understand  quite. 

After  Steph  anie  had  been  back  in  Chicago  six  months, 
during  which  time  she  saw  very  little  of  Cowperwood,  who 
was  busy  with  his  street-railway  programme,  she  was  swept 
into  the  net  of  another  interest  which  carried  her  away 
from  him  and  Aileen  for  the  time  bein^.  On  the  West 
Side,  among  a  circle  of  her  mother's  tnends,  had  been 
organized  an  Amateur  Dramatic  League,  with  no  less  object 
than  to  elevate  the  stage.  That  world-old  problem  never 
fails  to  interest  the  new  and  the  inexperienced.  It  all  be- 
gan in  the  home  of  one  of  the  new  rich  of  the  West  Side — 
the  Timberlakes.  They,  in  their  large  house  on  Ashland 
Avenue,  bad  a  stage,  and  Georgia  Timberlake,  a  romantic- 
minded  girl  of  twenty  with  flaxen  hair,  imagined  she  could 
act.  Mrs.  Timberlake,  a  fat,  indulgent  mother,  rather 
agreed  with  her.  The  whole  idea,  after  a  few  discursive 
performances  of  Milton's  "The  Masque  of  Comus," 
"Pyramus  and  Thisbe,"  and  an  improved  Harlequin  and 
Columbine,  written  bv  one  of  the  members,  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  realm  of  the  studios,  then  quartered  in  the 
New  Arts  Building.  An  artist  bv  the  name  of  Lane  Cross, 
a  portrait-painter,  who  was  much  less  of  an  artist  than  he 
was  a  stage  director,  and  not  much  of  either,  but  who  made 
his  living  by  homswaggling  society  into  the  belief  that  he 
could  pamt,  was  induced  to  take  charge  of  these  stage  peiv 
formances. 

By  degrees  the  "Garrick  Players,"  as  they  chose  to  call 

themselves,  developed  no  little  skill  and  craftsmanship 
in  presenting  one  form  and  another  of  classic  and  semi- 
classic  play.  "Romeo  and  Juliet,"  with  few  properties 
of  any  kind,  "The  Learned  Ladies"  of  Moliere,  Sheri- 
dan's "The  Rivals,"  and  the  "Elektra"  of  Sophocles  were 
all  given.  Considerable  ability  of  one  kind  and  another 
was  developed,  the  group  including  two  actresses  of  sub- 
sequent repute  on  the  American  stage,  one  of  whom  was 

20S 


THE  TITAN 

Stephanie  Platow.  There  were  some  ten  girls  and  women 
among  the  acuve  members,  and  almost  as  many  men— 
avanety  of  characters  much  too  extended  to  discuss  here. 

lliere  was  a  dramatic  critic  by  the  name  of  Gardner 
Kjiowles,  a  young  man,  very  smug  and  handsome,  who 
was  connected  with  the  Chicago  Press.   Whipping  his 
neatly  trousered  legs  with  his  bright  little  cane,  he  used 
to  appear  at  the  rooms  of  the  players  at  the  Tuesday, 
Ihureday,  and  Saturday  teas  which  they  inaugurated, 
and  discuss  the  merits  of  the  venture.   Thus  the  Garrick 
Hayew  were  gradually  introduced  into  the  newspapers, 
u  j*^     ***        smooth-faced,  pasty-souled  artist  who 
JS**^'        *  "'^^     he^Tt,  a  subtle  seducer  of  wom- 
«i,  who,  however,  escaped  detection  by  a  smooth,  con- 
ventional bearing.    He  was  interested  in  such  n'rls  as 
Georgia  lunbcrlake,  Irma  Ottley,  a  rosy,  aggressive 
maiden  who  essayed  comic  roles,  and  Stephanie  Platow. 
Ihese,  with  another  girl,  Ethel  Tuckerman,  veiy  emotional 
and  romantic,  who  could  dance  charmingly  and  sing, 
made  up  a  group  of  friends  which  became  very  dose. 
Presently  mtimaaes  sprang  up,  only  in  this  realm,  instead 
of  endine  m  mamage,  they  merely  resulted  in  sex  liberty. 
ITius  tthel  Tuckerman  became  the  mistress  of  Lane  Cross; 
an  illicit  attachment  grew  up  between  Irma  Ottley  and  a 
young  society  idler  by  the  name  of  Bliss  Bridge;  and 
Gardner  Knowles,  ardently  admiring  Stephanie  Platow, 
literally  seized   upon  her  one  afternoon  in  her  own 
home,  when  he  went  ostensibly  to  interview  her,  and 
oyerpersuaded  her.    She  was  only  reasonably  fond  of 
him,  not  m  love;  but,  being  generous,  nebulous,  passion- 
ate, emotional,  mexpenenced,  voiceless,  and  vainly  curious, 
without  any  sense  of  the  meums  and  reums  that  govern 
society  m  such  matters,  she  allowed  this  rather  brutal  thing 
to  happen.   She  was  not  a  coward— was  too  nebulous  and 
yet  forceful  to  be  such.   Her  parents  never  knew.  And 
once  so  launched,  another  worid— that  of  sex  satisfaction— 
began  to  dawn  on  her. 

Were  these  young  people  evil  ?  Let  the  soda!  philosopher 
answer.  One  thing  is  certain:  They  did  not  establish 
bomtt  and  raise  children.  On  the  contrary,  they  led  a 
gay,  butterfly  odstence  for  neariy  two  years;  tlmi  came  a 

206 


THE  COMING  OF  STEPHAJ^IE  PLATOW 

rift  in  the  lute.  Quarrels  developed  over  parts,  respective 
degree  of  abiliw,  and  leadershw.  Ethd  Tuckerman  fell 
<Hit  widi  Lane  Cross,  because  she  discovered  him  making 
love  to  Irma  Ottley.  Itma  and  Bliss  Bridge  released  each 
other,  the  fatter  transferring  his  affections  to  Geoma 
Timberlake.  iStephanie  natow,  by  far  the  most  in- 
dividual of  them  all,  developed  a  strange  inconsequence 
as  to  her  deeds.  It  was  when  she  was  drawing  near  uie  age 
of  twentjr  that  the  affair  tnth  Gardno*  KmivHes  began. 
After  a  rime  Lane  Cross,  with  his  somewhat  earnest  at- 
tempt at  arrisric  interpretation  and  his  superiority  in  the 
matter  years — he  was  tony,  and  young  Knowles  only 
twenty-four — seemed  more  interesting  to  Stephanie,  and 
he  was  quick  to  respond.  There  followed  an  idle,  passion- 
ate unkm  with  this  man,  which  seemed  important,  but  was 
not  so  at  all.  And  then  it  was  that  Stephanie  began  dimly 
to  perceive  that  it  was  on  and  on  that  the  blessings  Ue, 
that  somewhere  there  mieht  be  some  man  much  more  re- 
markable than  either  of  ^ese;  but  this  was  only  a  dream. 
She  thought  of  Cowperwood  at  times;  but  he  seemed  to 
her  to  be  too  wra|^>ed  up  in  grim  tremendous  things,  far 
apart  from  this  romantic  world  of  amateur  dramatics  in 
which  she  was  involved. 


CHAPTER  XXV 


11 


f  '  • 


W:-t1t--. 


AUU  FROM  1HB  OUBMT 

pOWPERWOOD  gained  hij  fim  real  imprcdon  of 
VjStephame  at  the  Garnck  Players,  where  he  went  with 
Aiteen  once  to  witness  a  performance  of  "Elektra."  He 
£S!?Jf.l^**n P*«»5"J>riy  «  this  part,  and  thought  her 
iWhjfSL  "°'J°".«  =»fterward  he  noticed  her 

m  his  own  home  lookmg  at  his  jades,  particularly  a  tow  of 

HMiked  the  rhythmic  ^tST  3 
her  body  which  rcr  led  him  of  a  letter  S  in  motion! 
Quite  luddttily  ,t  ca.       .r  him  that  she  was  a  remarUble 

Sr  Xr.'^  c***     '^'?PS,  to  some  significant  future. 

At  the  same  amc  Stephanie  was  thinking  of  him. 

beside*hS^  interesting?"  he  asked,  stopping 

thl}  ^^i!'^  wonderful.   Those  dark-greens,  and 

that  pale  fatty  white!  I  can  see  how  beautiful  they  would 
fiL'"  ^oP'"«se  setting.  I  have  always  wished  we  could 
fand  a  Chinese  or  Jaoanese  ^lay  to  produce  sometime." 

wellJ'^^kirO>rp:±j'  ^™ 

K.SL''''tk        ^i^I}^^  }°  ~mm«»t  on  a  feature  of  hers 
bffore.   She  turned  her  dark,  brown-black  eyes  on  him— 
velvety  eyes  with  a  kind  of  black  glow  in  thim-and  now 
I  they  were,  and  how  nice  were  her 

hands— brown  almost  as  a  Malay's. 

He  said  nothing  more;  but  the  next  day  an  unlabeled 
box  was  delivered  to  Stephanie  at  her  home  containing  a 
TJ  V     ■  a  brace  et,  and  a  brooch  with  Chinese 

5in3?*"ci.""«''u^^'*.,  Stephanie  was  beside  herself  with 
delight.  She  gathered  then^  up  in  her  hands  and  kissed 
b«^U.  tnT"^  the  ear-rings  in  her  ean  and  adiusting  the 
bracelet  and  nng.   Despite  her  experience  with  W  frwndt 

208 


AIRS  FROM  THE  ORIENT 

and  relatives,  her  staee  associates,  and  her  paramours,  she 
was  still  a  little  unschooled  in  the  worid.  Her  heart  was 
essentially  poetic  and  innocent.  No  c»e  had  ever  given 
her  much  of  anythine — not  even  her  parents.  Her  allow- 
ance thus  far  in  life  had  been  a  pitiful  six  ddilan  a  week 
outside  of  her  clothing.  As  she  surveyed  these  pretty 
things  in  the  privacy  of  her  room  she  wondered  oddly 
whether  Cowperwood  was  growing  to  like  her.  Would  such 
a  strong,  hr.ro  business  man  be  interested  in  her?  Slw  had 
heard  her  father  say  he  was  becoming  very  rich.  Was  she 
a  ereat  actress,  as  some  said  she  was,  and  would  strcmg, 
able  types  of  men  like  Cowperwood  take  to  her— eventu- 
ally? She  had  heard  of  Rachel,  of  Nell  Gwynne,  of  the 
divine  Sarah  and  her  loves.  She  took  the  precious  nfts 
and  locked  diem  in  a  UadMron  boat  itbkk  wm  sacrra  to 
her  trinkets  and  her  secrets. 

The  mere  acceptance  of  these  things  in  silence  was  suffi- 
cient indication  to  Gmpetwood  that  she  was  of  a  friendly 
turn  of  mind.  He  waited  padently  until  one  day  a  letter 
came  to  his  office — not  nis  house — addressed,  "Frank 
Algernon  Cowperwood,  Personal."  It  was  wiitten  ia  a 
nnall,  neat,  camtil  hamd,  almost  primed. 

I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you  for  your  wonderful  present. 
I  didn't  mean  you  should  give  them  to  me,  and  I  know  you  sent 
them.  I  shall  keep  them  with  pleasure  and  wear  them  with  de- 
light. It  was  so  mce  of  you  to  do  this. 

SrsraAim  PtATOHf • 

Cowperwood  studied  the  handwridng,  the  paper,  the 
phraseology.  For  a  girl  of  only  a  little  over  twenty  this 
was  wise  and  reserved  and  tactful.  She  might  have 
written  to  him  at  his  residence.  He  gave  her  the  boiefit 
of  a  week's  time,  and  then  found  her  in  his  own  home  one 
Sunday  afternoon.  Aileen  had  gone  calling,  and  Stephanie 
was  pretending  to  await  her  return. 

"It's  nice  to  see  you  there  in  that  windofw/' he  tand. 
"You  fit  your  background  perfectly." 

"Do  Ir  The  black-brown  eyes  burned  soutfidty.  The 
panneling  back  of  her  was  of  dark  oak»  bumped  by  the 
rays  of  an  afternoon  winter  sun. 

Stqphanie  Batow  had  dressed  for  diis  opportunity.  Her 

909 


THE  TITAN 

SfViSJ 'J^^'lSif ^lifj-  ^'"«*»*  »  band 
or  Nocg-red  nbbon,  holding  it  low  over  her  temples  and 

ears.    Her  lithe  body,  so  harmonious  in  its  graven  round- 

nMs,wasclad  inan  appleywn  bodice,  and  a  black  skirt 

Jki  -Kf""/^  *^  *»^'  "no^^  a™*,  from 
the  e  bows  down,  were  bare.   On  one  wrist  wa«  the  jade 

S£  5  had  given  her.  Her  stockings  were  appIe^Jeen 
iii^  and,  despite  the  chill  of  the  day,  her  feet  were  shod  in 
enticingly  low  slippers  with  brass  buckles. 

Cowperwood  retired  to  the  haU  to  hang  up  hit  ovcmnt 
and  came  back  smiUi^.  wtwww 

1^ Isn't  Mrs.  Cownerwood  about?" 
The  butler  says  she's  out  calling,  but  I  thought  I'd 
wait  a  httle  while,  anyhow.    She  may  come  backT 

bhe  turned  up  a  dark,  smiling  face  to  him,  with  languish- 
3*  iSd  dw  recognired  the  artist  at  hwt, 

«L***uy**".¥'^*„™y  *>"celet,  don't  you?" 
It's  beautiful,   she  replied,  looking  down  and  survey- 

ttem  au  with  me  always.   I  love  them  so.   1  like  to  fed 

She  opjmed  a  «naU  chamois  bag  beside  her-lying  with 
handkerdiief  and  a  sketch-book  which  she  fl^ys 
carried— and  took  out  the  ear-nngs  and  brooch. 

fu^*^  "^^^.^  ^^""""^^  feeling  ot  approval 
and  enthusiasm  at  this  mainfestation  of  real  inteiest.  He 
hked  jade  himsdf  very  much,  but  more  than  that  the  feel- 
ing that  prompted  diis  expression  in  another.  Roughly 
g^ing.  It  might  have  been  said  of  him  that  youth  and 
ftoje  1..  women—particularly  youth  when  combined  with 
b^xy  and  ambmon  m  a  gjrl— touched  him.  He  responded 
kee^  to  her  impi^  to  do  or  be  something  in  this  world, 
whatever  it  might  be,  and  he  looked  on  the  smart,  egoistic 
vanity  of  so  many  with  a  kindly,  tolerant,  almost  p^ntal 
eye.   roor  little  orMmcin*  ^  le  t  r 


•V.    P^- rill  •^"»"**»';»  a»»nosc  parent 

S         iS  u"'*  o**"""?*  Ptmmg  on  the  tree  of  life 

SSL"!?  ?  St  ^''h        *"°»«h-   He  did  not 

know  the  ballad  of  the  roses  of  yesteryear,  but  if  he  had  it 
would  have  appe.  d  to  him.  He  did  not  care  to  rifle 
them,  willy-nilly;  but  should  their  tempemaenti  or  tmn 


AIRS  FROM  THE  ORIENT 

incline  them  in  his  direction,  thev  would  not  suffer  rmfy 
i.\  their  lives  because  of  him.  The  fact  was,  the  man  wm 
essentially  generous  where  women  were  concerned. 

"How  nice  of  youl"  he  commented,  smiling.  "I  like 
that."  And  then,  seeing  a  note-book  and  pencil  Mtide  her» 
he  asked,  "What  are  you  doing?" 

"Tust  sketching." 

"Let  me  see?" 

"It*t  nothing  much,"  she  replied,  deprecatingly.  "I 
don't  draw  very  well." 

"Gifted  girl r  he  replied,  pickingit  up.  "Paints, drawi, 
carves  on  wood,  plavs,  sings,  acts?* 

"All  rather  badly, '  she  sighed,  turning  her  head  languidly 
and  looking  away.  In  her  sketch-book  she  had  put  all  of 
her  best  dniwin|t;  diere  were  dcetdiet  of  nude  women, 
dancers,  torsos,  bits  of  running  figures,  sad,  heavy,  sensuous 
heads  and  necks  of  sleeping  g^rls,  chins  up,  eyelids  down, 
studies  of  lier  biochen  and  nster,  simI  or  her  father  and 
mother. 

"Delightfull"  exclaimed  Cowperwood,  keenly  alive  to  a 
new  treasure.  Good  heavens,  where  ni^  been  hit  efet 
all  this  while?  Here  was  a  jewel  Ijring  at  his  doorstep- 
innocent,  untarnished-  -a  real  jewel.  These  drawings  sug- 
gested a  fire  of  perception,  nnMdering  and  aombery  v^di 
thrilled  him. 

"These  are  beautiful  to  me,  Stephanie,"  he  said,  simply, 
a  strange,  uncertain  ieding  of  real  aflPection  creeping  over 
him.  The  man's  greatest  love  was  for  art.  It  waa  bypnotk 
to  him.    "  Did  you  ever  study  art  ?"  he  asked. 

"No." 

"And  you  never  itudied  acting?" 

"No." 

She  shook  her  head  in  a  slow,  sad,  entidi^  way.  The 
black  hair  concealing  her  ears  moved  him  strangely. 

"I  know  the  art  of  your  stage  work  is  real,  and  you  have 
a  natural  art  whidi  I  just  seem  to  see.  What  hat  been  thn 
matter  with  me,  anyhow?" 

"(Ml  no,"  she  si^ied.   "It  seems  to  me  that  I  merely 

Elay  at  everything.   I  could  ciy  tomectmet  fHwa  I  dlUtt 
ow  I  go  on." 
"At  twenty?" 


THE  TITAN 

.**'4  archly. 

exa<S^""**  '  cautiously,  "how  old  are  you, 

;;i  will  be  twenty-one  in  April,"  she  answered. 
Have  your  parents  been  very  strict  with  you?" 

asw'-te  k''  ^'"^  what  makes  you 

ask?   They  haven  t  oaid  very  much  attention  to  mt 
They  ve  always  hke/Ludlle  and  Gilbert  and  O^rd 
best.     Her  voice  had  a  plaintive,  neglected  inig.  Uwu 
the  voice  she  used  in  her  best  scenes^the  sS^.  ™ 
"iVk"  V  ^^L**^  that  vou  are  very  talented?" 
,J  think  perhaps  my  mother  feels  that  I  mav  have  ann* 
ability    My  father  /oesn't,  I'm  sure.   WhyV  ^ 
bhelifted  those  languorous,  plaintive  eyes. 
Whv,  btephanie,  if  you  want  to  know,  I  think  Wre 
wonderful,    f  thought  so  the  other  night  whwyou^" 
lookmg  at  those  jades.   It  aU  cama  <w?r  me.   You  arT  m 
arus^  truly,  and  I  have  been  ao        I  fcaw  «2 
It.    1  ell  me  one  thine." 
"Yes."  * 

Iw.JfeiT'  'Vi       breath,  filling  her  chest  and  expanding 

itkedtelnllJetw"^''*^^ 

thin^^You  h^vT^d^  «>™- 
I>i  you  like  mer  ^  of  me  for  over .  year. 

"l8*Ih«  Sr"        wonderful,"  she  murmured. 

op'?£i  t  h?a^^  •  ^-"^ 

to'pntr*"  ^^'y 

a  kind  ^n'lifrottt^.''*  ""^  "P'^^'^' 

ing  down'rf  hif"^  he  «id,  ,«a,  and  look- 

She  shook  her  head. 

No." 
"Yes!" 
"No." 


212 


AIRS  PROM  THE  ORIENT 

"Come,  Stephanie  I  Stand  by  me  and  look  at  me.  Yov 
are  so  tall  and  slender  and  gnioelttL  Yoa  an  lUw  aooi*- 
thing  out  of  Asia." 

She  sighed,  turning  in  a  sinuous  way,  as  he  slipped  his 
arm  about  her. 

"I  dcm't  think  we  should,  should  we?"  she  aaked*  nalrely, 
after  a  moment,  pulling  away  from  him. 

"Stephanie!" 

"I  think  I'd  better  to»  now,  pleaie." 


CHAPTER  XX/I 

LOVE  AND  WAR 


I  Ph!?,  ""^  the  earlier  phases  of  his  connection  with 
terS-SfK-"' k'""^''"^.'  Cowperwood,  ardently  i^- 
a  IS^E.v""'*^^  m  Steohanie  Platow,  developed  as  Sou. 
a  «w  affair  as  zny  that  l,ad  yet  held  him.  At  once  ffter  f 
few  secret  interviews  with  her,  he  adopted  his  fovorite 

^«^blished  bachelor  quartersTn™h1 
dm.town  section  as  a  convenient  meeting-irround  Sev 

n^'^ artK'''°"'irf  ^'IP'^^"'^  ^«  not""e  as  illume 
J        ^J*^!^  might  have  been,  for,  wonderful  as  she  wa™ 
•IM  of  artistic  godsend  in  this  dull  Western  atSosohSl 

ffiql^dS^aS^aS  n^  of thVte 

P^SaS^s^M^^^^^^^ 

dramatic  orgamzation.   He  'askedTeHs  They  sat  in  ! 
favonte  and  mconspfcuous  resort  of  his  findinfo  ^i^a  one 
ofthose  moments  when  blood  and  not  Stt  f^ffi^ 
b^t^  them,  whether  she  had  ever-^^ 
ttace,    she  naively  admitted. 
It  was  a  great  shock  to  Cowperwood.    He  had  fancl.^ 
her  refreshingly  innocent.    But^he  expIaSed  it  wTJn 
so  accidenta ,  so  unintentional  on  her  part!  very  She 
n^l'"  '°  gravely,  soulfuUy,  patK«lf^Wh  such 
mJnT^  ^S:  '^""^^'"Pl^ive  backward  searcSnr  of  ?he 
mmd,  that  he  was  astonished  and  in  a  way  touched  Wha? 

l^L^'       P"'*^"^^  who ?af  ^ne  thirihe 

^^tp^'^fl^\^  to  blamC^JiJher! 

'(jwcMppened.   She  btd  tned  to  protest,  but—  Wasn't 


LOVE  AND  WAR 

she  angry?  Yes,  but  then  she  was  sorry  to  do  anything  to 
hurt  Gardner  Knowles.  He  was  such  a  charming  boy,  and 
he  had  sudi  a  lovely  mother  and  sister,  and  the  like. 

Cowperwood  was  astonished.  He  had  reached  diat 
point  in  life  where  the  absence  of  primal  innocence  in  a 
woman  was  not  very  significant;  but  in  Stephanie,  seeinc 
that  she  was  so  utterly  charming,  it  was  almost  too  bad. 
He  thought  what  fools  the  Platows  must  be  to  tolerate 
this  art  atmosphere  for  Stephanie  widiout  keeping  a  sharp 
watch  over  it.  Nevertheless,  he  was  inclined  to  believe 
from  observation  thus  far  that  Stephanie  might  be  hard  to 
watch.  She  was  ingrainedly  irresponsible,  apparently — so 
artistically  nebulous,  so  non-self-protective.  To  go  on  and 
be  friends  with  this  scamp!  And  yet  she  protested  that 
never  after  that  had  there  been  the  least  thbg  between 
them.  Cowperwood  could  scarcely  believe  it.  She  must 
be  lying,  and  yet  he  liked  her  so.  The  very  romantic,  in- 
c(»sequential  way  in  which  she  narrated  all  diu  staggered, 
amused,  and  even  fascinated  him. 

"But,  Stephanie,"  he  argued,  curiously,  "there  must 
have  been  some  aftemnA  to  att  diis.  What  happened? 
What  did  you  do?" 

"Nothing."   She  shook  her  head. 

He  had  to  smile. 

"But  oh,  don't  let's  talk  about  it!"  she  pleaded.  "I 
don't  want  to.    It  hurts  me.   There  was  nothing  more." 

She  sighed,  and  Cowperwood  meditated.  The  evil  was 
now  done,  and  the  best  that  he  could  do,  if  he  cared  for  her 
at  all — and  he  did — was  to  overlook  it.  He  surveyed  her 
oddly,  wonderingly.  What  a  charming  soul  she  was,  any- 
how! How  naive — how  brooding!  Sibe  had  art~-lots  of 
it.   Did  he  want  to  eive  her  up  r 

As  he  might  have  biown,  it  was  dai^rous  to  trifle  with 
a  type  <^  this  kind,  pardculariy  once  awakened  to  the  sig- 
nincaaoe  of  promiscuity,  and  unless  mastered  by  some 
absorbing  passion.  Stephanie  had  had  too  much  flattery 
and  affection  heaped  upon  her  in  the  past  two  years  to  be 
easily  absorbed.  Nevenlieless,  for  the  time  being,  anyhow, 
she  was  fascinated  by  the  si^ificance  of  Cowpeiwuud. 
It  wzt  w<mderful  to^  have  so  foe,  so  powerful  a  man  care 
for  her.  She  conceived  <tf  him  as  a  very  great  artist  in 

ais 


THE  TITAN 

his  realm  rather  than  as  a  business  man,  and  he  grasped  this 
feet  after  a  very  httle  while  and  appreciated  it.  To  hit 
delight,  she  was  even  more  beautiful  phyncallv  than  he 
had  arjiapated  — a  smoldering,  passi-^nate  girl  who  met 
Mm  with  a  fire  which,  thoueh  somber,  q^Jte  rivaled  his  own. 
bhe  was  different,  too,  m  her  languorous  acceptance  of  all 
that  he  bestowed  from  any  one  he  had  ever  known.  She 
was  as  tactful  as  Rita  Sohlberg— more  so— but  so  preter- 
naturally  silent  at  times. 

"Stephanie,"  he  would  exclaim,  "do  talk.  What  ace 
yw  thinkiMof?  You  dream  Kke  an  African  native." 

J  1  Tl^^  *        ^ay  or  sketched  or 

modeled  him.  She  was  constantly  penciling  something, 
until  moved  by  the  fever  of  her  Wood,  when  she  would  si^ 
and  look  at  him  or  brood  silently,  eyes  down.  Then,  when 
hcwould  nach  for  her  with  seeking  hands,  she  would  sidi, 
tm  ytt,  oh  yesl 

ThoM  wece  deUghtfuI  days  with  Stephanie. 

In  the  matter  of  young  MacDonald's  request  for  fifty 
thousand  dollars  in  secunties,  as  well  as  the  attitude  <tf 
the  other  editors-Hvssop,  Braxton,  Ricketts,  and  so  on— 
who  had  proved  subtly  cntical,  a.'vperwood  conferred  with 
Addison  and  McKenty. 

"A  Ukely  lad,  that,"  commented  McKenty,  sucdntly, 
when  he  heard  it^  "He'll  do  better  than  his  father  in  one 
wajj^  Myhow.    He'll  probably  make  more  money." 

McKenty  had  seen  old  General  MacDonald  just  once  in 
his  life,  and  liked  him. 

}  '^"^^  General  would  think  of 

tnat  it  he  knew,  commented  Addison,  who  admired  the  old 
editor  greatly.  "I'm  afraid  he  wouldn't  sleep  very  well." 
•k  -l^S^.®"*  o''>served  Cowperwood, 

thoughtfully.  "This  young  man  wiU  certainly  come  into 
control  of  the  Inqutrer  sometime.  He  looks  to  me  like 
some  one  who  would  not  readily  forget  an  injury."  He 
smiled  sardonically.    So  did  McKenty  and  Addison. 

Be  that  as  It  may,"  suggested  the  latter,  "he  isn't 
editor  yet.     McKenty,  who  never  revealed  his  true  views 

216 


LOVE  AND  WAR 

"What  can  they  do?  Your  request  it  a  reasonable  one. 
Why  shouldn't  the  city  give  you  the  tunnel?  It's  no  good 
to  any  one  as  it  is.  And  the  loop  is  no  more  than  the  other 
loads  have  now.  I'm  thinking  it's  the  Chicago  City  Rail- 
way and  that  silk-stocking  crowd  in  State  Street  or  that 
gas  crowd  that's  talking  against  you.  I've  heard  them 
before.  Give  them  what  they  want,  and  it's  a  fine  moral 
cause.  Give  it  to  any  one  else,  and  there's  something 
wrong  with  it.  It's  little  attention  I  pay  to  them.  We 
have  the  council.  Let  it  pass  the  ordinances.  It  can't  be 
proved  that  they  don't  do  it  willingly.  The  mayor  is  a 
sensible  man.  He'll  sign  them.  Let  young  MacDonald  talk 
if  he  wants  to.  If  he  says  too  much  you  can  talk  to  his 
father.  As  for  Hyssop,  he's  an  old  grandmother  anyhow. 
I've  never  known  him  to  be  for  a  public  improvement  yet 
that  was  really  good  for  Chicago  unless  Schryhart  or  Merrill 
or  Ameel  or  some  one  else  of  that  crowd  wanted  it.  I  know 
them  of  old.  My  advice  is  to  go  ahead  and  never  mind 
them.  To  hell  with  them!  Thmgs  will  be  sweet  antmAt 
once  you  are  as  powerful  as  they  are.  They'll  get  nothme 
in  tli«  future  without  paying  for  it.  It's  little  enough 
they've  ever  done  to  further  anything  that  I  wanted." 

Cowperwood,  however,  remained  cool  and  thoughtful. 
Should  he  pay  young  MacDonald?  he  asked  himself. 
Addison  knew  of  no  influence  that  he  could  bring  to  bear. 
Finally,  after  much  thought,  he  decided  to  proceed  as  he 
had  planned.  Consequently,  the  reporters  around  the 
City  Hall  and  the  council-chamber,  who  were  in  touch  with 
Al  derman  Thomas  Dowling,  McKenty's  leader  on  the 
floor  <^  council,  and  those  who  called  occasionally — quite 
regularly,  in  fact— at  the  oflices  of  the  North  Chicago 
Street  Railway  Company,  Cowperwood's  comfortable  new 
offices  in  the  Nordi  Side,  were  now  given  to  understand 
that  two  ordinances — one  granting  the  free  use  of  the  La 
Salle  Street  tunnel  for  an  unlimited  period  (practically  a 
nh  of  it),  and  another  granrine  a  right  of  way  in  La  Salle, 
Munroe,  Dearborn,  and  Randolph  streets  for  the  proposed 
loop — would  be  introduced  in  council  very  shortly.  Cow- 
perwood granted  a  very  flowery  interview,  in  whidi  he  e»» 
plamed  quite  enthusiastically  all  that  the  North  Chicago 
company  was  doing  and  proposed  to  do,  and  made  dear 

ai7 


THE  TITAN 

what  a  splendid  development  it  would  assure  to  the  North 
Side  and  to  the  business  center. 

At  once  Schryhart,  NTerrill,  and  some  individuals  con- 
nected with  the  Chicago  West  Division  Company,  began 
to  complam  m  the  newspaper  offices  and  at  the  clubs 
to  Ricketts,  Braxton,  young  MacDonald,  and  the  other 
editors.  Envy  of  the  pyrotechnic  progress  of  the  man 
was  as  much  a  factor  in  this  as  anything  else.  It  did  not 
make  the  slightest  difference,  as  Cowperwood  had  sar- 
castically pointed  out,  that  evenr  other  corporation  of  any 
stgntficance  in  Chicago  had  asked  and  received  without 
money  and  without  price.  Somehow  his  career  in  con- 
nection with  Chicago  gas,  his  venturesome,  if  unsuccessful 
^o.  Chicago  society,  his  self-acknowledged 

rhiiadelphia  record,  rendered  the  sensitive  cohorts  of  the 
ultra-conservative   exceedingly   fearful.    In  Schryhart's 
ChrontcU  appeared  a  news  column  which  was  headed, 
riam  Grab  of  City  Tunnel  Proposed."   It  was  a  very 
truculent  statement,  and  irritated  Cowperwood  greatly. 
Ihe  Prfss  (Mr.  Ha^uenin's  paper),  on  the  other  hand,  was 
most  cordial  to  the  idea  of  the  loop,  while  appearing  to  be  a 
little  uncertam  as  to  whether  the  tunnel  should  be  granted 
without  conipensation  or  not.   Editor  Hyssop  felt  called 
upon  to  insist  that  something  more  than  merely  nominal 
TOmpensation  should  be  made  for  the  tunnel,  and  that 
nders    should  be  inserted  in  the  loop  ordinance  making 
It  incumbent  upon  the  North  Chicago  company  to  keep 
those  thoroughfares  in  full  repair  and  well  lighted.  The 
Inquirer,  under  Mr.  MacDonald,  junior,  and  Mr.  Du  Bois, 
was  in  rumblmg  opposition.    No  free  tunnels,  it  cried; 
no  tree  ordinances  for  privileges  in  the  down-town  heart. 
It  had  nothing  to  say  about  Cowperwood  personally. 
Ihe  Globe,  Mr.  Braxton's  paper,  was  certain  that  no  free 
rights  to  the  tunnel  should  be  given,  and  that  a  much  better 
route  for  the  loop  could  be  found— one  larger  and  more 
serviceable  to  the  public,  one  that  might  be  made  to  in- 
clude State  Street  or  Wabash  Avenue,  or  both,  where  Mr. 
Merrill  s  store  was  located.    So  it  went,  and  one  could  see 
guite  clearlv  to  what  extent  the  interests  of  the  public 
fagured  m  the  majority  of  these  particular  viewpoints. 
.  Uwperwood,  mdividual,  reliant,  utterly  indifferent  to 


218 


LOVE  AND  WAR 

opposition  of  any  kind,  was  somewhat  angered  by  the 
manner  in  which  his  overtures  had  been  received,  but  still 
(elt  that  the  best  way  out  of  his  troubles  was  to  follow 
MeKenty*s  advice  and  get  power  first.  Once  he  had  his 
cable -conduit  down,  his  new  cars  running,  the  tunnel 
rebuilt,  brilliantly  lighted,  and  the  bridge  crush  disposed 
of,  the  public  would  see  yvhzt  a  vast  ch?  'ge  for  the  better 
had  been  made  and  would  support  him.  Finally  all  things 
were  in  readiness  and  the  ordinance  jammed  through. 
McKenty,  being  a  little  dubious  of  the  outcome,  had  a 
rocking-chair  brought  into  the  council-chamber  itself  during 
the  hours  when  the  ordinances  were  up  for  consideration. 
In  this  he  sat,  presumably  as  a  curious  spectator,  actually 
as  a  master  dictating  tne  course  of  liquidation  in  hand. 
Neither  Cowperwood  nor  any  one  else  knew  of  McKenty's 
action  until  too  late  to  interfere  with  it.  Addison  and  Videra, 
when  they  read  about  it  as  sneeringly  set  forth  in  the  news  col- 
umns of  the  papers,  lifted  and  then  wrinkled  their  eyebrows. 

"That  looks  like  pretty  rough  work  to  mc,"  commented 
Addison.  "I  thought  McKenty  had  more  tact.  That's 
his  early  Irish  training." 

Alexander  Rambaud,  who  was  an  admirer  zad  follower 
of  Cowperwood's,  wondered  whether  the  papers  were  lying, 
whether  it  really  could  be  true  that  Cowperwood  had  a 
serious  political  compact  with  McKenty  which  would  allow 
him  to  walk  rough-shod  over  public  opinion.  Rambaud 
considered  Cowperwood's  proposition  so  sane  and  reason- 
able that  he  could  not  understand  tfcwere  should  be 
serious  opposition,  or  why  Cowperwood  and  McKenty 
should  have  to  resort  to  such  methods. 

However,  the  streets  requisite  for  the  loop  were  granted. 
The  tunnel  was  leased  for  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine 
years  at  the  nominal  sum  of  five  thousand  dollars  per  year. 
It  was  understood  that  the  old  bridges  over  State,  D«ir- 
bom,  and  Clark  streets  should  be  put  in  repair  or  removed; 
but  there  was  "a  joker"  inserted  elsewhere  which  nullified 
this.  Instantly  there  were  stormy  outbursts  in  the  Chron- 
icUf  Inquirer,  and  Globe;  but  Cowperwood,  when  he  read 
them,  merely  smiled.  "Let  them  grumble,"  he  said  to 
himself.  "I  put  a  very  reasonable  propositi<Hi  before  them. 
Why  should  they  complain  ?  I'm  doing  more  now  than  the 

S19 


THE  TITAN 

Chicago  City  Railway.  It's  jealousy,  that's  all.  If 
Schryhart  or  Merrill  had  asked  for  it,  there  would  have 
been  no  complaint." 

McKenty  called  at  the  offices  of  the  Chicago  Trust  Com- 
pany to  congratulate  Cowperwood.  "The  boys  did  as  I 
thought  they  would,"  he  said.  "  I  had  to  be  there,  though, 
for  I  heard  some  one  say  that  about  ten  of  them  intended 
to  ditch  us  at  the  last  moment." 

"Good  work,  good  work!"  replied  Cowperwood,  cheer- 
fully. "This  row  will  all  blow  over.  It  would  be  the 
same  whenever  we  asked.  The  air  will  clear  up.  We'll 
give  them  such  a  fine  service  that  they'll  foi^  jdl  about 
this,  and  be  glad  they  gave  us  the  tunnel." 

Just  the  same,  the  morning  after  the  enabling  ordinances 
had  passed,  there  was  much  derogatory  comment  in  in- 
fluential quarters.  Mr.  Norman  Schryhart,  who,  through 
his  publisher,  had  been  fulminating  defensively  against 
Cowperwood,  stared  solemnly  at  Mr.  Ricketts  when  they  met. 

"Well,"  said  the  m^nate,  who  imagined  he  foresaw  a 
threatened  attack  on  his  Chicago  City  Street  Railway  pre- 
serves, "I  see  our  friend  Mr.  Cowperwood  has  manaf^ 
to  get  his  own  way  with  the  council.  I  am  morally  cer- 
tain he  uses  money  to  get  what  he  is  after  as  freely  as  a 
fireman  uses  water.  He's  as  slippery  as  an  eel.  I  should 
be  glad  if  we  could  establish  that  there  is  a  community  of 
interest  between  him  and  these  politicians  around  City 
Hall,  or  between  him  and  Mr.  McKenty.  I  believe  he  has 
set  out  to  dominate  this  city  politically  as  well  as  financiaUy, 
and  he'll  need  constant  watching.  If  public  opinion  can 
be  aroused  against  him  he  may  be  dislodged  in  the  course 
of  time.  Chicago  may  get  too  uncomfortable  for  him. 
I  know  Mr.  McKenty  personally,  but  he  is  not  thi  kind 
of  man  I  care  to  do  business  with." 

Mr.  Schryhart's  method  of  negotiating  at  City  Hall  was 
through  certain  reputable  but  somewhat  slow-going  law- 
yers who  were  in  the  employ  of  the  South  Side  company. 
They  had  never  been  able  to  reach  Mr.  McKenty  at  all. 
Ricketts  echoed  a  hearty  approval.  "You're  vety  right," 
he  said,  with  owlish  smugness,  adjusting  a  waistcoat  but- 
ton that  had  come  loose,  and  smoothing  his  cuffs.  "He's 
a  prince  of  poliddans.  We'll  have  to  look  sharp  if  we  ever 

320 


LOVE  AND  WAR 

trap  him."  Mr.  Ricketts  would  have  been  glad  to  sell  out 
to  Mr.  Cowperwood,  if  he  had  not  been  so  heavily  obUgated 
to  Mr.  Schryhart.  He  had  no  especial  affection  for  Cow- 
perwood,  but  he  recognized  in  him  a  coming  man. 

Young  MacDonald,  talking  to  Clifford  Du  Bois  in  the 
office  of  the  Inquirer,  and  reflecting  how  little  his  private 
telephone  message  had  availed  hmi,  was  in  a  waspish* 
ironic  frame  of  mind. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "it  seems  our  friend  Cowperwood  hasn't 
taken  our  advice.  He  may  make  his  mark,  but  the  Inquirer 
isn't  through  with  him  by  a  long  shot.  He'll  be  wanting 
other  things  from  the  city  in  the  Future." 

Clifford  l)u  Bois  regarded  his  acid  young  superior  with  a 
curious  eye.  He  knew  nothing  of  MacDonald's  private 
telephone  message  to  Cowperwood;  but  he  knew  how  he 
himself  would  have  dealt  with  the  crafi^  fimmder  had  he 
been  in  MacDonald's  position. 

"Yes,  Cowperwood  is  shrewd,"  was  his  comment. 
"  Pritchard,  our  political  man,  says  the  ways  of  the  City 
Hall  are  greased  straight  up  to  the  mayor  and  McKenty, 
and  tJiat  Cowperwood  can  have  anything  he  wants  at 
any  time.  Tom  Dowling  eats  out  of  his  hand,  and  you 
know  what  that  means.  Old  General  Van  Sickle  is  workine 
for  him  in  some  way.  Did  you  ever  see  that  old  buzzard 
flyiiUK  around  if  there  wasn't  somethine  dead  in  the  woods?" 

"He's  a  slick  one,"  remarked  MacDonald.  "But  as  for 
Cowperwood,  he  can't  get  away  with  this  sort  of  thing 
very  long.   He's  going  too  fast.   He  wants  too  much." 

Mr.  Du  Bois  smiled  quite  secretly.  It  amused  him  to 
see  how  Cowperwood  had  brushed  MacDonald  and  his 
objections  aside — dispensed  for  the  time  being  with  the 
services  of  the  Inquirer,  Du  Bok  a«fidaitly  bdieved  ^at 
if  the  old  General  had  been  at  home  he  would  have  mtp' 
ported  the  financier. 

Within  eight  months  after  seizing  the  La  Salle  Street  tun- 
nel and  gobbling  four  of  the  principal  down-town  streets 
for  his  loon,  Cowperwood  tunwd  his  eyes  «>wani  die  com- 
pletion or  the  second  part  of  the  programme — that  of 
taking  over  the  Washington  Street  tunnel  and  the  Chicago 
West  DivincMi  Cmnpany,  yAadt  was  mM  driftfDg  akQg 


THE  TITAN 

M*!!£  cV*"*  Horse^ar  regime.  It  was  the  story  of  the 
Worth  Side  company  all  over  again.   Stockholders  of  a 

!?JS!f"f  -rl'^^'^^^-f *  extremely  nervous,  sen- 
Mtive,  fearsome.    They  are  hke  that  peculiar  bivalve,  the 
clam,  which  at  the  slightest  sense  of  untoward  pressure 
withdraws  into  its  shell  and  ceases  all  activity.    The  city 
tax  department  be^an  by  instituting  proceedings  against 
the  West  Division  company,  compelling  them  to  disgorge 
vanous  unoaid  street-car  taxes  which  had  hitherto  been 
convenientfy  neglected.   The  city  highway  department 
was  cons^ntly  jumpmg  on  them  for  neglect  of  street 
u        water  department,  by  some  hocus-pocus, 
made  it  Jts  business  to  discover  that  they  had  been  stealing 
water.   On  the  other  hand  were  the  smiling  representativel 
of  Cowperwood,  Kaffrath,  Addison,  Vid?ra,  and  others, 
approaching  one  director  or  stockholder  after  another  with 
glistening  accounts  of  what  a  splendid  day  would  set  in  for 
the  Chicago  West  Division  Company  if  only  it  would  lease 
lifty-one  per  cent,  of  its  holdings— fifty-one  per  cent  of 
Ton:X  Y^lf        ^^^y  shares,  par  /alue  two  Sr^ 
dollars— for  the  fascmating  sum  of  six  hundred  dollars  per 
shan^  and  thirty  per  cent,  interest  on  all  stock  not  assumed. 

Who  could  resist?  Starve  and  beat  a  dog  on  the  one 
hand;  wheedle,  pet,  and  hold  meat  in  front  of  it  on  the 

^ilfT'if"  "u""  'iS?"  be  brought  to  perform.  Cowper- 
wood knew  this.  His  emissaries  for  good  and  evil  ^re 
tireless.  In  the  end— and  it  was  not  long  in  coming— the 
directors  and  chief  stockholdcn  of  the*  Chicago^est 
^vision  Company  succumbed;  and  then,  lo!  the  sudden 
leas  ng  by  the  Chicago  West  Division  Company  of  all  its 
pro,  .rty  to  the  Nort^  Chicago  Street  RaiA^C^mpany 

which  r2™  ^'r^"  qty  Passenger  Railway,  a  line 
Which  Cowperwood  had  organized  to  take  over  the  Wash- 
ington Street  tunnel.  How  had  he  accomplished  it?  The 
question  was  on  the  tip  of  every  financial  tongue.  Who 
rrr.  organization  providing  the  enormous 

sums  necessary  to  nay  six  hundred  dollaii  per  share  for 
SIX  hundred  and  fifty  shares  of  the  twelve  Vundred  and 
fif  y  belonging  to  the  old  West  Division  company,  lid 
thirty  per  cent,  per  year  on  all  the  remainder? 
the  money  coming  from  to  cable  aU  thew  lines?  It  m 


LOVE  AND  WAR 

simple  enough  if  they  had  only  dKmght.  Cowpeimwd  WM 
merely  capitalizing  the  future. 

Before  the  newspapers  or  die  public  could  suitably  pro- 
test, crowds  of  men  were  at  work  day  and  night  m  the 
business  heart  of  the  city,  their  flaring  torches  and  resound- 
ing hammers  making  a  htful  bedlamic  worid  of  that  region; 
they  were  laying  the  first  great  cable  loop  and  repairing 
the  La  Salle  Street  tunnel.  It  was  the  same  on  the  Ncrth 
and  West  Sides,  where  concrete  conduits  were  being  laid, 
new  grip  and  trailer  cars  built,  new  car-bams  erected,  and 
large,  shining  power-houses  put  up.  The  city,  so  long 
used  to  die  old  bridge  delays,  the  straw-strewn,  stovelest 
horse-cars  on  their  jumping  rails,  was  agog  to  see  how  fine 
this  new  service  vould  be.  The  La  Salle  Street  tunnel  was 
soon  a^»w  with  white  plaster  and  electric  lights.  The  long 
streets  and  avenues  of  the  North  Side  were  threaded  with 
concrete-lined  conduits  and  heavy  street-rails.  The  power- 
houses were  completed  and  the  syttem  was  started,  even 
while  the  contracts  for  the  chaiq^  <m  die  West  Side  were 
beine  let. 

Soiryhart  and  his  associates  were  amazed  at  this  swift- 
ness of  action,  this  dizzy  phantasmagoria  of  financial  opera- 
tions. It  looked  very  much  to  the  conservative  traction 
interests  of  Chicago  as  if  this  young  giant  out  of  the  East 
had  it  in  mind  to  eat  up  the  whole  city.  The  Chicago 
Trust  Company,  which  he,  Addison,  McKenty,  and  others 
had  organized  to  manipulate  the  principal  phases  of  the 
local  bond  issues,  and  of  which  he  was  rumored  to  be  in 
control,  was  in  a  flourishing  condition.  Apparently  he 
could  now  write  his  check  for  millions,  and  yet  he  was  not 
beholden,  so  far  as  the  older  and  more  conservarive  mulri- 
millionaires  of  Chicago  were  concerned,  to  any  one  of  them. 
The  worst  of  it  was  that  this  Cowperwood — an  upstart,  a 
jail-bird,  a  stranger  whom  they  had  done  their  best  to 
suppress  financially  and  ostracize  socially,  had  now  become 
an  attractive,  even  a  sparkling  figure  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Chicago  public.  His  views  and  opinions  on  almost  any 
topic  were  freely  quoted;  the  newspapers,  even  die  m(»t 
antagonistic,  did  not  dare  to  neglect  nim.  Their  owners 
were  now  fully  alive  to  the  fact  diat  a  new  fin^nciffl  rival 
had  appeared  who  was  wordiy  of  dudu:  Mxd. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

A  FntANaSR  BIWITCHBD 


L,h^  street-railway  enterprise  which 

could  find  intense  rehef  and  satisfaction  in  the  presence 
and  actions  of  Stephanie  Platow.  It  is  not  too  muc^TJo  ^ay 
that  in  hen  perhaps,  he  found  revivified  the  spirit  and  oer- 
r'^l'^/A"^  r^^^r^-  Rita,  however,  £ad  nJt  SJ- 
templated  d.sloyalty-it  liad  never  occurred  to  her  t^be 

^i  SLn^^rP^T'^^?^  ^?  ^^'^        of  her  any 

more  than  for  a  Jong  time  it  had  been  possible  for  her,  even 
after  all  his  philanderings,  to  be  faithle«  to  £h  be4 
Stephanie,  on  the  other  hand,  had  the  strange  feeline  thft 
affectton  to  not  necessarily  identified  with  pifys  ca  loyalty 
and  that  she  could  be  fond  of  Cowperwood  Li  IdU  dS3i 
him-a  fact  which  was  based  on  fier  lack  as  yet  of  a  true 
enthusiasm  for  him.   She  loved  him  and  she  didn't. 
attitude  was  not  necessarilv  identified  with  her  heavJ^ 
izardish  animalitv,  though  that  had  something  to  do  wiS 

m  tted       ^"fTV  generosity  which  per- 

mitted her  to  feel  that  it  was  hard  to  break  With  Gardner 

ner.   Gardner  Knowles  had  sung  her  praises  here,  there 

JSfo„r.r^-''  V'  -«TP""g  spread'her  farn^ 
among  the  leatimate  theatrical  enterprises  which  came  to 

t'^^  '"jf  ^  "P  and  made  into 
a  significant  figure.  Lane  Cross  was  wildly  fond  of  her  in 
an  madequate  way  which  made  it  hard  to  break  with  him" 
and  vet  certam  that  the  would  eventually.    There  was  stH 

Tfc^L^C:::^  ^°""fi  P^?^"«»'«.  poet  by  the  name 
^ri^^  Gumey-taTl,  fair,  pass pnate-who  had  newly 
amved  on  the  scene  and  was  courting  her,  or,  rather,  being 

334 


A  FINANCIER  BEWITCHED 

courted  by  her  at  odd  moments,  for  her  tune  was  her  own. 
In  her  artistically  errant  way  she  had  refused  to  go  to 
sdiool  like  her  sister,  and  was  idling  about,  developing,  as 
she  phrased  it,  her  artistic  possibilities. 

Cowperwood,  as  was  natural,  heani  much  of  her  stage 
life.  At  first  he  took  all  this  palaver  with  a  nain  of 
salt,  the  babbling  of  an  ardent  nature  interested  in  the 
flighty  romance  of  the  studio  world.  By  degrees,  how- 
ever, he  became  cuiiotjs  as  to  die  fireedom  of  her  actions, 
the  ease  with  which  she  drifted  from  place  to  place — 
Lane  Cross's  studio;  Bliss  Bridge's  bachelor  rooms,  where 
he  appeared  always  to  be  receiving  his  dieatrical  frioids 
of  the  Garrick  Players;  Mr.  Gardner  Knowles's  honiC  on 
the  near  North  Side,  where  he  was  frequently  entertaining 
a  party  after  the  theater.  It  seemed  to  Cowperwood,  to 
say  the  least,  that  Stephanie  was  leading  a  rather  free  and 
inconsequential  existence,  and  yet  it  reflected  her  exactly — 
the  color  of  her  soul.   But  he  began  to  doubt  and  wonder. 

"Where  were  you,  Stephanie,  yesterday?"  he  would  ask, 
when  they  met  for  lunch,  or  in  the  evenings  early,  or 
when  she  called  at  his  new  (Aces  on  the  Ncmh  ^e,  as 
she  sometimes  did  to  walk  or  drive  with  him. 

"Oh,  yesterday  morning  I  was  at  Lane  Cross's  studio 
trying  on  some  of  his  Indian  diawls  and  veils.  He  has  such 
a  lot  of  those  things — some  of  the  loveliest  oranges  and 
blues.  You  just  ought  to  see  me  in  them.  I  wish  you 
might." 

"Alone?" 

"For  a  while.  I  thought  Ethel  Tuckerman  and  Bliss 
Bridge  would  be  there,  but  they  didn't  come  until  later. 
Lane  Cross  is  such  a  dear.  He's  sort  of  silly  at  times,  but 
I  like  him.   His  portraits  are  so  bizarre." 

She  went  off  into  a  dactipdkMi  ot  hit  pretendoua  but  in* 
significant  art. 

Cowpcrwood  marveled,  not  at  Lane  Cross's  art  nor  his 
shawls,  but  at  this  world  \n  which  Stephanie  moved.  He 
could  not  quite  make  her  out.  He  had  never  been  able 
to  make  her  explain  satisfsctorily  that  first  single  relaek»- 
ship  with  Gardner  Knowles,  which  she  declared  had  ended 
so  abruptly.  Since  then  he  had  doubted,  as  was  his  nature; 
but  this  girl  was  so  sweet,  diildish,  irreomdlaUe  with  her* 

8  MS 


THE  TITAN 

sdf,  Uke  a  wandering  breath  of  air,  or  a  pale-colored  flower, 
that  he  scarcely  knew  what  to  think.  The  artistically  in- 
dined  are  not  prone  to  quarrel  with  an  enticing  sheaf  of 
Bowerk   She  was  heavenly  to  him,  ctMning  in,  as  she  did 

at  times  when  he  was  alone,  with  bland  eyes  and  yielding 
herself  in  a  kind  of  summery  ecstasy.  She  had  always 
something  artistic  to  tell  of  storms,  winds,  dust,  clouds, 
smoke  forms,  the  outline  of  buildings,  the  lake,  the  stage. 
She  would  cuddle  in  his  arms  and  quote  long  sections  from 
Romeo  and  Juliet,"  "Paolo  and  Francesea,"  "The  Ring 
and  the  Book,"  Keats's  "Eve  of  St.  Agnes."  He  hated 
to  quarrel  with  her,  because  she  was  like  a  wild  rose  or 
art  form  in  nature.  Her  sketch-book  was  always 
full  of  new  things.  Her  mufF,  or  the  light  silk  shawl  she 
wore  in  summer,  sometimes  concealed  a  modeled  figure  of 
some  kind  which  she  would  produce  with  a  look  like  thzr 
of  a  doubting  child,  and  if  he  wanted  it,  if  he  liked  i 
he  could  have  it.  Cowperwood  meditated  deeply.  He 
•carcely  knew  what  to  thmk. 

consunt  atmosphere  of  suspicion  and  doubt  in 
whidi  he  was  cmnpelled  to  remain,  came  by  degrees  to 
distress  and  anger  him.  While  she  was  with  him  she  was 
chngme  enough,  but  when  she  was  away  she  was  ardently 
cheerful  and  happy.  Unlike  the  station  he  had  occupied 
m  so  many  previous  affairs,  he  found  himself,  after  the 
first  little  while,  asking  her  whether  she  loved  him  instead 
of  submitting  to  the  same  question  from  her. 

He  thought  that  with  his  means,  his  position,  his 
future  possibilities  he  had  the  power  to  bind  almost  any 
wnnan  once  drawn  to  his  personality;  but  Stephanie  was 
coo  young  and  too  poetic  to  be  greatly  impaired  by  wealth 
f  sufficiently  gripped  by  the 

lure  of  him.  She  loved  him  in  her  strange  way;  but  she 
was  interested  also  by  the  latest  arrival,  Forbes  Gumey. 
Ihis  tall,  melancholy  youth,  with  brown  eyes  and  pale- 
brown  hair,  was  very  poor.  He  hailed  from  southern 
Minnesota,  and  what  between  a  penchant  for  journalism, 
J^r?^"ting,  and  some  dramatic  work,  was  somewhat  un- 
deaded  as  to  his  future.  His  present  occupation  was  that 
of  an  instalment  collector  for  a  furniture  company,  which 
set  him  free,  as  a  rule,  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  He 

226 


A  FINANCIER  BEWITCHED 

was  trying,  in  a  mooning  way,  to  identify  himtelf  with  the 
Chicago  newspaper  worid,  and  was  a  diacoivery  of  Gardner 

KnowTes. 

Stephanie  had  seen  him  about  the  rooms  of  the  Garrick 
Players.  She  had  looked  at  his  longish  face  with  its 
aureole  of  soft,  crinkly  hair,  his  fine  wide  mouth,  deep-set 
eyes,  and  good  nose,  and  had  been  touched  by  an  atmoa- 
^ere  of  wistfulness,  or,  let  us  say,  life-hunger.  Gardner 
Knowles  brought  a  poem  of  his  once,  which  he  had  bor- 
rowed from  him,  and  read  it  to  the  company,  Stephanie, 
Ethel  Tuckerman,  Lane  Cross,  and  Irma  Ottley  assembled. 

"Listen  to  this,"  Knowles  had  suddenly  exclaimed, 
taking  it  out  of  his  pocket. 

It  concerned  a  garden  of  the  moon  with  the  fragrance 
of  pale  bkMscnns,  a  mystic  pool,  some  ancient  figures  of 
joy,  a  quavoed  Luddian  tunc* 

"  With  eerie  flute  and  rhythmic  thrum 
Of  mitttd  ttings  wad  beaten  drum." 

Stephanie  Hatow  had  sat  silent,  caught  by  a  Quality  that 
was  akin  to  her  oiro.  She  aaked  to  aee  it,  and  read  it  in 

silence. 

"I  think  it's  charming,"  she  said. 

Thereafter  she  hovered  in  the  vicinity  of  Forbes  Gumey. 
Why,  she  could  scarcely  say.  It  was  not  coquetry.  She 
just  drew  near,  talked  to  him  of  stage  work  and  her  i^aya 
and  her  ambitions.  She  sketched  him  as  she  had  Cowper> 
wood  and  others,  and  one  day  Cowperwood  found  three 
studies  of  Forbes  Gumey  in  her  note-book  idyUkly  done, 
a  note  of  romantic  feeling  about  them. 

"Who  is  this?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  he's  a  young  poet  who  comes  up  to  the  Players — 
Forbes  Gumey.  He's  to  diarming;  he's  so  pale  and 
dreamy." 

Cowperwood  contemplated  die  aketdiea  curiously.  Hit 
eyes  clouded. 

"Another  one  of  Stephanie's  adherents,"  he  commented, 
teasingly.  "It's  a  long  procession  I've  joined.  Gardner 
Knowles,  Lane  Cross,  Bliss  Bridge,  Forbes  Gumey." 

Stephanie  merely  pouted  moodily, 

327 


\  4i 


THE  TITAN 

"How  you  talk!  Bliss  Bridge,  Gardner  KnowlesI  I 
admit  I  like  them  all,  but  that's  all  I  uc  do.  They're  just 
sweet  and  dear.  You'd  like  Lane  Cross  yourself;  he's  such 
a  foolish  old  Polly.  As  for  Forbes  Gumey,  he  just  drifts 
up  uiere  once  in  a  while  as  one  of  the  crowd.  I  scarcely 
know  him." 

"^^y»ll  Cowpeiwood,  dolefully;  "but  you 
sketdi  him. 

^  For  tome  reason  Cowperwood  did  not  believe  this.  Back 
m  au  brain  he  did  not  believe  Stephanie  at  all,  he  did  not 
trust  her.  Yet  he  was  intensely  fond  of  her — the  more 
•0,  perhaps,  because  of  this. 

"Tell  me  truly,  Stephanie,"  he  said  to  her  one  day, 
unently,  and  yet  very  diplomatically.  "I  don't  care  at 
all,  so  far  as  your  past  is  concerned.  You  and  I  are  close 
enough  to  reach  a  perfect  understanding.  But  you  didn't 
tel  me  the  whde  truth  about  you  and  Knowles,  did  you? 
Tell  me  truly  now.  I  sha'n't  mind.  I  can  understand 
well  enough  how  it  could  have  happened.  It  doesn't  make 
the  least  bit  of  difference  to  me,  really.** 

Stephanie  was  off  her  guard  for  once,  in  no  truly  fencing 
mood.  She  was  troubled  at  times  about  her  various  rela- 
tions, amdous  to  put  herself  straight  with  Cowperwood  or 
with  any  one  whom  she  truly  liked.  Compared  to  Cowper- 
wood and  his  affairs,  Cross  and  Knowles  were  trivial,  and 
yet  Knowles  was  interesting  to  her.  Compared  to  Cowper- 
wood, Forbes  Gumey  was  a  stripling  beggar,  and  yet  Gur- 
ney  had  what  Cowperwood  did  not  have — a  sad,  poeric 
I  **!  L  *»er  sjmapathtes.   He  wai  tudi  a 

lonely  boy.   Cowperwood  was  so  strong,  brilliant,  magnetic. 

Perhaps  it  was  with  some  idea  of  clearing  up  her  moral 
status  generally  that  she  finally  said :  "Well,  I  didn't  tell  you 
the  exact  truth  about  it,  either.    I  was  a  little  ashamed  to.'* 

At  the  close  of  her  confession,  which  involved  only 
Knowles,  and  was  incomplete  at  that,  Cowperwood  burned 
with  a  kind  of  angiy  resentment.  V^hy  tnfle  with  a  lying 
prMtituter  That  she  was  an  inconsequendal  free  lover  at 
twenty-one  was  quite  plain.  And  yet  there  was  something 
so  strangely  lajge  about  the  girl,  so  magneric,  and  she  was 
•o  beautiful  after  her  kind,  that  he  could  not  think  of 
Vrmg  her  up.   She  reminded  him  of  himaetf'. 

22» 


A  FINANCIER  BEWITCHED 

"Well,  Stephanie,'*  he  said,  trampling  under  jot  an 
impulse  to  insult  or  rebuke  and  dismiss  her,  "you  are 
strange.  Why  didn't  you  tdl  me  thit  bdbie?  I  have 
asked  and  asked.  Do  you  realty  mean  to  say  liat  you  care 
for  me  at  all?" 

"How  can  you  ask  that?"  she  demanded,  reproachfully^ 
feeling  that  she  had  been  rather  foolish  in  confessing.  Per- 
haps she  would  lose  him  now,  and  she  did  not  want  to  do 
that.  Because  his  eyes  blazed  with  a  jealous  hardness 
she  burst  into  tears.  "Oh,  I  wish  I  had  never  told  you! 
There  is  nothing  to  tell,  anyhow.    I  never  wanted  to.** 

Cowperwood  was  iMmplussed.  He  knew  human  nature 
pretty  well,  and  woman  nature;  his  common  sense  told  him 
that  this  girl  was  not  to  be  trusted,  and  yet  he  was  drawn 
to  her.  Periups  she  was  not  lyin^  and  these  tears  were  reaL 

"And  you  positively  assure  me  that  this  was  all— that 
there  wasn't  any  one  else  before,  and  no  one  since  ?^* 

Stephanie  dned  her  eyes.  They  were  in  his  private 
rooms  in  Randolph  Street,  the  bachelor  rooms  he  had  fitted 
for  himself  as  a  changing  place  for  various  affairs. 

"I  don't  believe  you  care  for  me  at  all,"  die  obeerred, 
dolefully,  reproachfully.  "I  don't  believe  you  understand 
me.  I  don't  think  you  believe  me.  When  I  tell  you  how 
things  are  you  don't  understand.  I  don't  lie.  I  can't.  If 
you  are  so  doubdng  now,  perhaps  you  had  better  not  see 
me  any  more.  I  want  to  be  frank  with  you,  but  if  you 
won't  let  me — " 

She  paused  heavily,  gloomily,  very  sorrowfully,  and  Cow- 
perwood surveyed  her  with  a  kind  of  yearning.  What  an 
unreasoning  pull  she  had  for  himi  He  did  not  bdkire  her, 
and  yet  he  could  not  let  her  eo. 

"Ch,  I  don|t  know  ^at  to  tnink,"  he  commented,  morose- 
ly. "I  certainly  don't  want  to  quarrel  with  you,  Stephanie, 
"  for  telling  me  the  truth.  Please  dcm't  deceive  me.  You 
are  a  remaricaUe  girl.  I  can  do  so  nrach  for  you  if  you 
will  let  me.    You  ought  to  see  that." 

"But  I'm  not  deceiving  you."  she  repeated,  wearily. 
"I  should  think  you  could  we.** 

'I  believe  you,"  he  went  on,  trying  to  deceive  himself 
against  his  better  judgment.  "But  you  lead  such  a  free» 
uaamvcitdoiiii  HfSe." 

aa9 


THE  TITAN 


Ah,   thought  Stephanie,  "perhaps  I  talk  too  much." 
}  am  very  fond  of  you.  You  appeal  to  me  so  much. 
I  love  you,  really.    Don't  deceive  me.    Don't  run  with 
all  these  silly  simpletons.   They  are  really  not  worthy  of 
you.   I  shall  be  able  to  get  a  divorce  one  of  these  days, 
and  then  I  would  be  glad  to  marry  you." 

"But  I'm  not  running  with  them  m  the  sense  that  you 
tiunk.  They're  not  anything  to  me  beyond  mere  enter- 
tamment.  Oh,  I  like  them,  of  course.  Lane  Cross  is  a 
dear  in  his  way,  and  so  is  Gardner  Knowles.  They  have  all 
been  nice  to  me." 

Cowperwood's  gorge  rose  at  her  calling  LaM  Cfon  dear. 
It  incensed  him,  and  yet  he  held  his  peace. 

"Do  give  me  your  word  that  there  will  never  be  any- 
thing between  you  and  any  of  these  men  so  long  as  you  are 
fnendl^^  with  me?"  he  almost  pleaded — a  strange  role  for 
him.^  "I  don't  care  to  share  you  with  any  one  dse.  I 
won  t.  I  don't  mind  what  you  have  done  in  the  pat^  but 
I  don't  want  you  to  be  unfaithful  in  the  future."^ 

"What  a  question  I  Of  ootine  I  won't.  But  if  you  don't 
beueve  me^h,  dear — " 

Stephanie  sighed  painfully,  and  Cowperwood's  face 
clouded  with  angiy  tiwugii  iroB-omceakd  niapidon  and 
jealousy. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you,  Stephanie,  I  believe  you  now.  I'm 
gomg  to  take  your  word.  But  if  you  do  deceive  me,  and 
I  should  find  it  out,  I  will  quit  you  the  same  day.  I  do  not 
care  to  share  you  widi  any  one  else.  What  I  can't  under- 
stand, if  you  care  for  me,  is  how  you  can  take  so  mudi 
interest  in  all  these  affairs?  It  certainly  isn't  devotion 
to  your  art  that's  imi>elling  you,  is  it?" 

"Oh,  are  you  going  to  go  on  quarreling  with  me?"  asked 
Stephanie,  naively.  "Won't  you  believe  me  when  I  say 
that  I  love  youf  Perhaps—^*  But  here  her  histrionic 
ability  came  to  her  aid,  and  she  sobbed  violently. 

Cowperwood  took  her  in  his  arms.  "Never  mind,"  he 
T  I  <Jo  Wieve  you.  I  do  think  vou  care  for  me. 
Only  I  wish  you  weren't  luch  a  bittceiily  temperament, 
Stephanie. 

So  this  pardcuUr  lesion  for  the  time  being  was  healed. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 


TBB  BXP08URB  OF  STEPHANIE 

AT  the  same  time  the  thought  of  readjusting  her  relations 
r\so  that  they  would  avoid  disloj^alty  to  G>wperwood  was 
never  further  from  Stephanie's  mind.  Let  no  one  quarrel 
with  Stephanie  Platow.  She  was  an  unstable  chemical 
ccmipouiid,  artistic  to  her  finger-tips,  not  understood  or 
properl>r  guarded  by  her  family.  Her  interest  in  Cowper- 
wood,  his  force  and  ability,  was  intense.  So  was  her  in- 
terest in  Forbes  Gumey— the  atmosphere  of  poetry  that 
enveloped  him.  She  studied  him  cunously  on  the  various 
occasions  when  they  met,  and,  findine  him  bashful  and  re- 
cessive, set  out  to  lure  hun.  She  Mt  ht  was  londy 
and  depressed  and  poor,  and  her  womanly  capact^  for 
sympathy  naturally  bade  her  be  tender. 

Her  end  was  easily  achieved.  One  ni^ht,  when  they 
were  all  out  in  Bhss  Bridge's  single-sticker  —  a  fast- 
sailing  saucer — Stephanie  and  Forbes  Gumey  sat  forward 
of  the  mast  looking  at  the  silver  moon  track  which  was  di- 
rectly ahead.  The  rest  were  in  the  cockpit  "cutting  up" 
— laughing  and  singing.  It  was  very  plain  to  all  that 
Stephanie  was  becoming  interested  in  Forbes  Gumey;  and 
since  he  was  charming  and  she  wilful,  nothing  was  done  to 
interfere  widi  them,  except  to  throw  an  occasional  jest 
their  way.  Gumey,  new  to  love  and  romance,  scarcelv 
knew  how  to  take  his  good  fortune,  how  to  b^n.  He 
told  Stephanie  of  his  hmne  life  in  the  wheat-fields  of  the 
Northwest,  how  his  family  had  moved  from  Ohio  when  he 
was  three,  and  how  difficult  were  the  labors  he  had  always 
undergone.  He  had  stopped  in  his  plowing  many  a  day 
to  stand  under  a  tree  and  write  a  poem — such  as  it  was — or 
to  yv  ch  the  birds  or  to  wish  he  could  go  to  collie  or  to 
Chicago.  Sh»  lodced  at  him  with  dreamy  eyes,  dark 


THE  TITAN 

skin  turned  a  copper  bronze  in  the  moonh'ght,  her  black 
hair  irradiated  with  a  strange,  luminous  grayish  blue, 
^orbes  Gumey,  alive  to  beauty  in  all  its  forms,  ventured 
hnally  to  touch  her  hand— she  of  Knowles,  Cross,  and 
Cowperwood— and  she  thrilled  from  head  to  toe.  This 
boy  was  so  sweet.  His  curly  brown  hair  gave  him  a  kind 
of  Greek  innocence  and  aspect.  She  did  not  move,  but 
waited,  hopmg  he  would  do  more. 

"I  wish  I  mieht  talk  to  you  as  I  feel,"  he  finally  said, 
noarselv,  a  catch  in  his  throat. 

She  laid  one  hand  on  his. 

"You  dear!"  she  said. 

He  realized  now  that  he  might.  A  great  ecstasy  fell  upon 
him.  He  snioothed  hoi  hand,  then  slipped  his  arm  about 
her  waist,  then  ventured  to  kiss  the  dark  cheek  turned 
drwrnUy  from  him.  Artfully  her  head  sunk  to  his  shoulder, 
and  he  murmured  wild  nothings— how  divine  she  was,  how 
artistic,  how  wonderful!  With  her  view  of  things  it  could 
only  end  one  way.  She  manoeuvered  him  into  calling  on 
her  at  her  home,  into  studying  her  books  and  plays  on  the 
top-floor  Ritting-room,  into  hearing  her  sing.  Once  fully 
m  his  arms,  the  rest  was  easy  by  suggestkm.  He  learned 
she  was  no  longer  innocent,  and  then — 

In  the  mean  time  Cowperwocd  miii«Ied  bis  speculations 
concerning  laree  power-houses,  immense  reciprocating  en- 
gmes,  the  problem  of  a  wage  scale  for  his  now  two  thousand 
employees,  s'^me  of  whom  were  threatening  to  strike,  the 
problem  of  sccunng,  bonding,  and  equipping  the  La  Salle 
btreet  tunnel  and  a  down-town  loop  in  La  Salle,  Munroe, 
LJearbom,  and  Randolph  streets,  with  mental  inquiries  and 
pictures  as  to  what  possibly  Stephanie  Platow  might  be 
domg.  Me  could  only  make  appointments  with  her  from 
time  to  time.  He  did  not  fail  to  note  that,  after  he  began 
to  make  use  of  information  she  let  drop  as  to  her  where- 
abouts from  day  to  day  and  her  free  companionship,  he 
heard  less  of  Gardner  Knowles,  Lane  Cross,  and  Forbes 
Uumey,  and  more  of  Georgia  Timberlake  and  Ethel  Tucker^ 
man.  Why  this  sudden  reticence?  On  one  occasion  she 
did  say  of  Forbes  Gumey  "that  he  was  having  such  a 
iwrd  time,  and  that  his  clothes  weren't  as  nice  as  they 
•houM  be,  poor  dearP*  Stephanie  herself,  owing  to  aSi 


THE  EXPOSURE  OF  STEPHANIE 

made  to  her  by  Cowperwood,  was  resplendent  these  day*. 
She  took  just  enough  to  complete  her  wardrobe  accordmg 

to  her  taste.  ,     ,   ,  «t 

"Why  not  send  him  to  me?  Cowperwood  asked.  I 
might  find  something  to  do  for  him."  He  would  have  been 
perfectly  willing  to  put  him  in  some  position  where  he 
could  keep  track  of  his  time.  However,  Mr.  Gumey  never 
sought  him  for  a  position,  and  Stephanie  ceased  to  speak 
of  nis  poverty.  A  gift  of  two  hundred  dollars,  whidi 
Cowperwood  made  her  in  June,  was  followed  by  an  ac- 
cidental meeting  with  her  and  Gumey  in  Washington 
Street.  Mr.  Gumey,  pale  and  pleasant,  was  very  well 
dressed  indeed.  He  wore  a  pin  which  Cowperwood  knew 
had  once  belonged  to  Stephanie.  She  was  in  no  way  con- 
fused. Finally  Stephanie  let  it  out  that  Lane  Cross,  who 
had  gone  to  New  Hampshire  for  the  summer,  had  left  his 
studio  in  her  charge.  Cowperwood  decided  to  have  this 
studio  watched. 

There  was  in  Cowperwood's  employ  at  this  time  a 
young  newspaper  man,  an  ambitious  spark  aeed  twenty- 
six,  by  the  name  of  rrands  Kennedy.  He  had  written 
a  very  intelligent  article  for  the  Sunday  In^irer,  describ- 
ing Cowperwood  and  his  pla^.  and  pointing  out  what 
a  remarkable  man  he  waa.  Tma  pleated  Cowperwood. 
When  Kenneoy  called  one  day,  announcing  smartly  that  he 
was  anxious  to  get  out  of  reportorial  work,  and  mquiring 
whedior  he  couldn't  find  something  to  do  in  the  street- 
railway  woild,  Cowpemood  saw  in  hira  a  poMibly  uaeful 
tool. 

"I'll  try  you  out  at  aecretaiy  for  a  while,"  he  (aid,  plea^ 
antly.   "There  are  a  few  special  things  I  want  done.  If 

Jrou  succeed  in  those,  I  may  find  something  else  for  you 
ater.** 

Kennedy  had  been  working  for  him  only  a  little  while 
when  he  said  to  him  one  day:  "Francis,  did  you  ever  hear 
0^  a  yoat^  man  by  ^  name  of  Forbes  Gumey  in  die 
newspaper  world?" 

They  were  in  Cowpenrood's  private  office. 

"No,  sir,"  replied  Francis,  briskly. 

"You  have  heard  of  an  o^pmoatimi  called  the  Garrick 
Players,  haven't  you?" 


THE  TITAN 

;;Yes,  sir." 

i.  Ji^'-*'  do  you  suppose  you  could  undertake  a 

"'5*  Frsmds,  who  was  the  pink  of  perfec- 
t  on  this  morning  m  a  brown  rait,  garnet  tie,  and  sarf 
deeve-hnks  H,s  shoes  were  immacSSely  poirtSd,  ^3 
n»s.Young,  healthy  face  glistened.  '  ww 

1 11  tell  you  what  I  want  you  to  do.  There  is  a  vounir 
actress,  or  amateur  actress,  by  thename  of  Stephanie  Platow 

,-1         J^'^-r,^  ^'^^       ^°       out  for  me  what  the 
relations.of  Mr.  Guraey  and  this  woman  are.   I  havVc«! 
tain  busmess  reasons  for  wanting  to  know." 
Young  Kennedy  was  all  attenoon. 

oK«.X**?i.~*iJ"        "**  ^         find  out  anything 

about  this  Mr.  Gumey  to  begin  with,  could  you^ 


I  thmk  he  IS  a  fnend  of  a  cndc  here  by  the  name  of 
Gardner  Knowles.  You  might  ask  him.  fneed  m?  My 
that  you  must  never  mention  me."  ^ 

Yn.V;   r'^*''!^"^        thoroughly,  Mr.  Cowperwood." 

Young  Kennedy  departed,  meditating.  How  was  he  to 
do  this?  With  tme  journalistic  skiU  hi  first  sought  othe? 
newspaper  men.  from  whom  he  learned-a  bit  from  oni 
and  a  scrap  from  another-of  the  character  of  the  GarrJck 
t^JS';  ^"^"^        ^'^'^^  to  it.   He  pre- 

p^uc^"!     ™^  *  '^•^     ^°P«^  t° 

He  then  visited  Lane  Cross's  studio,  posing  as  a  news- 
paper mterviewer.  Mr.  Cross  was  oitTrowS,  sJ  Jhe 
«^e;;ator  man  said.    His  studio  was  closed. 

Mr.  Kennedy  meditated  on  this  fact  for  a  moment. 

he  a^ked."*"^***"*  •*"*^*'"'^*""^*^™°nt»'«?" 

"  *  y°""«  woman  who  cornea  here— 

YCS* 

**You  don't  happen  to  know  who  it  is?" 

to  liSi  forr       "      ^^'^  y°" 

a34 


THE  EXPOSURE  OF  STEPHANIE 

"Looky  here,"  exclaimed  Kennedy,  survejring  the  rather 
shabby  attendant  with  a  cordial  and  persuasive  ^e,  "do 
you  want  to  make  some  money — ^five  or  ten  ddlan»  and 
without  any  trouble  to  you  ?*' 

The  elevator  man,  whose  wages  were  exactly  eight  dol- 
lars a  week,  pricked  up  his  ears. 

"I  want  to  know  who  comes  here  with  this  Miss  Platow, 
when  they  come — all  about  it.  I'll  make  it  fifteen  dollars 
if  I  find  out  what  I  want,  and  I'll  give  you  five  right  now." 

The  elevator  factotum  had  just  sixty-five  cents  in  his 
pocket  at  the  time.  He  looked  at  Kennedy  with  some  un- 
certainty and  much  desire. 

"Well,  what  can  I  do?"  he  repeated.  "I'm  not  here  after 
six.   The  janitor  runs  this  elevator  from  six  to  twelve."  ^ 

"There  isn't  a  room  vacant  anywhere  near  dra  on^  it 
there?"  Kennedy  asked,  speculatively. 

The  factotum  thought.  "Yes,  there  is.  One  just  across 
the  hall." 

"What  time  does  she  come  here  as  a  rule?" 
"I  don't  know  anything  about  night«.   in  the  day  she 
smnetimes  comes  morning?;  wotueuam  in  die  aftmwoo." 

"^ybody  with  her?" 

"Sometimes  a  man,  sometimes  a  giri  or  two.  I  haven't 
really  paid  much  attention  to  her,  to  tell  yoa  ^  truth." 

Kennedjr  walked  away  whistling. 

From  this  day  on  Mr.  Kennedy  became  a  watcher  over 
diis  very  unconventional  atmosphere.  He  was  in  and  out, 
principally  observing  the  oMnings  and  goings  of  Mr. 
Gumev.  He  found  what  he  naturally  suspected,  that 
Mr.  Gumey  and  Stephanie  spent  hours  here  at  peculiar 
times — after  a  company  of  friends  had  jollified,  for  instancy 
and  all  had  left,  including  Gumey,  when  the  latter  would 
quietly  return,  with  Stephanie  sometinnes,  if  she  had  left 
with  the  others,  alone  ii  she  had  remained  behind.  The 
visits  were  of  varying  duration,  and  Kennedy,  to  be  abso- 
lutely accurate,  kept  days,  dates,  the  duration  of  the  hours, 
which  he  left  noted  in  a  sealed  envelope  for  Cowperwood 
in  the  mormng.  Cowperwood  wat  enticed,  but  ao  great 
was  his  interest  in  Stephanie  that  he  was  not  prepared 
to  act.  He  wanted  to  see  to  what  extent  her  duplicity 
would  go. 

*35 


THE  TITAN 

The  novelty  of  this  atmosphere  and  its  effect  on  him  was 
astomshing  Although  hi.  mind  was  vigorously  employed 
dunng  the  day  nevertheless  his  thoughts  kep^  retSmW 
constantly.  Where  was  she?  What  w^as  she  Soing?  T^f 
bland  way  in  which  she  could  he  reminded  him  of  liimself 
To  think  that  she  should  prefer  any  one  else  to  him, 
peaally  at  this  time  when  he  was  shining  as  a  great  con^ 
structive  factor  ,n  the  city,  was  too  much.  It  smacked  of 
ag^his  ultimate  displacement  by  youth.    It  cut  and  hurt 

»k  1/"°™'"^'-^  L  ^  P«c"''a'-'y  exasperating  night  of 
thought  concerning  her,  ht  said  to  youHg  Kenned?"  "I 
have  a  suggestion  for  you.  I  wish  you  would  get  this 
elevator  man  you  are  working  with  down  there  to  «t  you 
a  duplicate  key  to  this  studio,  and  tee  if  there  is  a  Won 

tl  "tS«  nij'J"'  ^r'^  the 
Key.  ine  next  time  she  is  there  of  an  evening  with  Mr. 
Guurney  step  out  and  telephone  me."  * 

1  he  climax  came  one  night  several  weeks  after  this  dis- 
couraging investigation  began.  There  was  a  heavy  yellow 
moon  m  the  sky,  and  a  warm,  sweet  summer  iLJ  wi 

amTi  i^P^""*  "!'^^  °«  Cowperwood  at  TS 
^ce  aW  four  to  sav  that  instead  of  staying  down-town 
J^th  h,m,  as  they  ha/ casually  planned,  ,ie  wa.  goi^  to 
her  home  on  the  West  Side  to  attend  a  garden-^  of 
»me  kind  at  Georgia  TimberiakeV  Cowperwo  J  lo3k^ 
at  her  with— for  him— a  morbid  eye.  He  was^  ch«S^ 
geniality  pleasant  badinage;  but  h^'e  warthTnking"  a^Uhe 
while  what  a  shameless  enigma  she  was,  how  tell  she 
played  her  part,  what  a  fool  she  must  take  him  to  be.  He 
her  nassion,  her  attractiveness,  her  natural 
fo?^.  due  credit;  but  he  could  not  forgive  her 

for  not  loving  him  perfectly,  as  had  so  many  otherl  She 
kil^"/  l"™"»"y  black-and-white  frock  and  a  fetching 
brown  Leghorn  hat,  which,  with  a  rich-red  poppy  om"? 

white-and-black  silk  about  the  crown,  made  her^em 
strangely  young,  debonair,  a  study  in  Hebraic  and  American 
otKins. 

noL-SfiS^  n,ce  time,  are  you?"  he  asked,  genially, 

,  /'  ^l'  enigmatic  and  inscrutiSle  way! 

Ijoug  to  shuie  among  that  chatmiog  cotnpany  you  kem? 

236 


THE  EXPOSURE  OF  STEPHANIE 

I  suppose  all  the  standb3r8  will  be  there — ^Blist  Brida^  Mr. 
Knowles,  Mr.  Cross — dancing  attendance  on  you?* 

He  failed  to  mention  Mr.  Gumey. 

Stei^anie  nodded  cheerfully.  Sat  eeoned  in  an  nao* 
cent  outing  mood. 

Cowperwood  smiled,  thinking  how  one  of  these  days — 
Tery  shortly,  perhaps — he  was  certain  to  take  a  signal  re- 
venge. He  would  catch  her  in  a  lie,  in  a  compromising 
position  somewhere — in  this  studio,  perhaps — and  dismiss  her 
with  contempt.  In  an  elder  day,  if  they  had  lived  in  Tur- 
key, he  would  have  had  her  strangled,  sewn  in  a  sack,  and 
thrown  into  the  Bosporus.  As  it  was,  he  could  only  dismin 
her.  He  smiled  ana  smiled,  smoothing  her  hand.  "Have 
a  good  time,"  he  called,  as  she  left.  Later,  at  his  own 
home — it  was  nearly  midnight — ^Mr.  Kennedy  called 
him  up. 

"Mr.  Cowperwood?*' 

"Yes.** 

"You  know  the  ttudb  in  the  New  Arts  BtitldingP' 

"Yes." 

"It  is  occupied  now.** 

Cowperwood  called  a  servant  to  bring  him  his  runabout. 
He  had  had  a  dovm-town  locksmith  make  a  round  key- 
stem  with  a  bored  dntdi  at  the  end  of  it — a  hollow  which 
would  fit  over  the  end  of  such  a  key  as  he  had  to  the  studio 
and  turn  it  easily  from  the  outside.  He  felt  in  his  pocket 
for  it,  jumped  in  his  runabout,  and  hurried  away.  When 
he  reached  the  New  Arts  Building  he  found  Kennedy  in  the 
hall  and  dismissed  him.  "Thanks,"  he  observed,  brusquely. 
"I  will  take  care  of  this." 

He  hurried  up  the  stairs,  avoiding  the  elevator,  to  the 
vacant  room  opposite,  and  thence  reconnoitered  the  studio 
door.  It  was  as  Kennedyhad  reported.  Stephanie  wat 
there,  and  with  Gumey.  The  pale  poet  had  been  brought 
there  to  furnish  her  an  evening  of  delight.  Because  of  the 
stillness  of  the  building  at  this  hour  he  could  hear  their 
muffled  voices  speaking  alternately,  and  once  Stephanie  sing- 
ing the  refrain  of  a  sons.  He  was  angry  and  yet  grateful  that 
she  had,  in  her  genial  way,  taken  the  trouble  to  call  and 
assure  him  that  she  was  going  to  a  summer  lawn-party 
and  dance.   He  smiled  grimly,  sarcastically,  as  he  thought 


THE  TITAN 

wJJLl'"?'"'*-  -^"^'[y  he  extracttrf  the  dutch-key  and 
mserted  It,  covenng  the  end  of  the  key  on  the  inSde  and 

th?l!lu'  i'  ^^^V^^^Jjy  .without  wZ,T  He  ne«  tried 
£  JS^Sn*"  Tk"'""'^     tflinK  the  door  spring  slightly  a. 
•  u  maudib  y,  because  of  a  cunxleH 

sTeJp^'S!:  ™  ^-^^y  ^^rX  Spetd  a 
K.J;!  finn  cough  tney  sprang  up— Gumey  to  a 

ceSmenTChTnH 'S'"^  "'"^  ^ephlnieVonT  o^f  Sn! 
^Sak         ]SSm**"P*".*'J*?.'*'*  She  could  not 

r^J     11     ^"™«y,  masculine  and  defiant,  but  by  no 

ryou^antWV''"*"^^  ^"t 
oo  you  want  here  r    Cowperwrood  replied  very  siniDlv  and 

g  teii  you.     He  nodded  in  her  direction. 

btephanie,  fixed  by  his  cold,  examining  eve  shrank 
nervously,  ignoring  Gumey  entirdy.  The  latte?  m^SJSi 
on  the  mstant  that  he  had";  previous  lidson  to'de^l^h^ 

.«  dtliTr^wtero'il^^^^^^ 

starfe/'  ,^"s2;'i«ff    Cowperwood,  complacently,  after 
rarmg  ^,    btephanie  gnmly  and  scorching  her  with  his 
jcorn,    I  have  no  concern  with  you,  and  do  not  proUS 
to  do  anything  to  disturb  you  or  Misi  Platow  after  a 
few  moments    I  am  not  hJie  without  rea^S    ThYs  youn^ 

not  bel?Jt?  P^««nded  an  uinocence  which  I  did 

not  believe.   To-night  she  told  me  she  was  to  be  at  a  lawn 

mon?h?"  I't  ^'^l  »>^«"  my  misJms  for 

TT^*'°^/,J^de  ear-nngs,  by  the  way,  are  one  of  mv 

live  romA"°''^-**  ^^^P'^''-'  •  ^  direction  ^ 

have  come  here  simply  to  prove  to  ht.  .;,at  she  cannot  lie 

Er  nf  tl^  ""Ti  Hf^^t^fo'-e,  every  time  I  have  SJc^sed 
^f  things  like  this  she  has  cried  and  lied.    I  doTot 

h'r  taf  wTh  tr:  t^^x  'rk^w^l 

&t  ifo^el'?^  St;pha«i^«'th^:.^aay^^.,i^ 
J>«»ing  chis  veiy  peculiar  harangue  Stephanie,  who» 

2$S 


THE  EXPOSURE  OF  STEPHAIMK 


nenroiM,  fearful,  fixed,  and  yet  beautiful,  remained  cuiied 
up  in  me  comer  of  the  suggestive  oriental  divan,  had  been 
gazing  at  Cowperwood  in  a  way  which  plainly  n«-tested, 
trifle  as  she  might  with  others,  that  she  was  nc^  caheleM 
fond  of  him — intensely  so.  His  strong,  solid  figure,  cath 
fronting  her  so  ruthlessly,  gripped  her  imagination,  of 
which  she  had  a  world.  She  haa  managed  to  conceal  her 
body  in  part,  but  her  brown  arms  and  shoulders,  her  botom, 
trim  knees,  and  feet  were  exposed  in  part.  Her  black  hair 
and  naive  face  were  now  heavy,  distressed,  sad.  She  was 
frightened  really,  for  Cowperwood  M  bottom  had  ahra]ra 
overawed  her — a  strange,  terrible,  fascinating  man.  Now 
she  sat  and  looked,  seeking  still  to  lure  him  by  the  pathetic 
cast  of  her  face  and  soul,  widle  Cowperwood,  scornful  of 
her,  and  almost  openly  contemptuous  of  her  lover,  and  his 
possible  opposition,  merely  stood  smiling  before  them.  It 
came  over  tier  very  swiftly  now  just  what  it  was  she  was 
losing — a  grim,  wonderful  man.   Beside  him  Gumey,  the 

Sale  poet,  was  rather  thin — a  mere  breath  of  romance, 
he  wanted  to  say  something,  to  make  a  plea;  but  it  was 
so  plain  Cowperwood  would  nave  none  of  it,  and,  besides, 
here  was  Gumey.  Her  throat  clogged,  her  eyes  filled,  even 
here,  and  a  myttical  bog-fire  state  of  emotion  siicoe»kd 
the  primary  one  of  opposition.  Cowperwood  knew  the 
look  well.    It  gave  him  the  only  sense  of  triumph  he  had. 

"^ei^anie,  he  remarked,  "I  have  just  oae  word  to  tay 
to  you  now.  We  will  not  meet  any  more,  of  course.  You 
are  a  good  actress.  Stick  to  your  profession.  You  may 
shine  in  it  if  you  do  not  merge  it  too  conapletely  with  your 
loves.  As  for  being  a  free  lover,  it  isn*t  incompatible  with 
what  you  are,  perhaps,  but  it  isn't  socially  advisable  for 
you.    Good  night." 

He  turned  and  walked  quickly  out. 
"Oh,  Frank,"  called  Stephanie,  in  a  strange,  magnetized, 
despairing  way,  even  in  tne  face  of  her  astonished  lover. 
Gumey  stared  with  his  mouth  open. 

Cowperwood  paid  no  heed.   Out  he  went  through  the 
dark  hall  and  down  the  stairs.    For  once  the  lure  of  a 
beautiful,  enigmatic,  immoral,  and  promiscuous  woman — 
pmaon  flower  though  she  was — was  haunting  him. 
*'D—  herl"  he  exdaimed.   "D—  tbe  little  beast,  any- 

239 


m 

1 


! 


ii  I  V 


if' 


THE  TITAN 


howl  The 


-I  TIk 


■I' 


■I  .    »  .    —  .       -He  lued  terms  so  hard, 

•or«le.M  «d,aBI»cau«liekii«wforow»wlttt  it  was  to 

WW  and  lose— to  Aant  arde-tly  ir  His  way  and  not  to 

^'  ^l^'^  ?^'«f-  detttmined  that  hit 

path  and  duit  of  StqAaaw  Ibtow  dieall  Btv«r  be  idowed 
tocioii— — " 


A  FAIBLY  QUAimn. 

TT  chanced  that  shortly  before  this  liaison  wm  broken 
4  dF,  some  troubling  information  was  quite  innocently 
^veyed  to  AilMi  bv  Stephanie  Platow's  own  mother. 
One  day  Mrs.  Ratn-  ,  in  calliiUE  on  Mrs.  Cowperwood, 
commented  on  the  act  that  Stephanie  was  gradually 
mproving  in  her  art,  that  the  Garrick  Players  had  experi- 
enced a  great  deal  of  trouble,  and  that  Stephanie  was  short- 
ly to  appear  in  a  new  itte— somedi^p  Cmiete. 

"That  was  such  a  charmine  set  of  jade  you  gave  her," 
she  volunteered,  geniaiiy  "I  only  saw  it  the  other  day 
for  dw  firtt  tinK.  She  uKWt  uM  me  about  it  before. 
Slie  prizes  it  so  ^  .ry  highly,  doc  I  feel  a»  tlioiigli  I  ou^ 
ro  thank  you  myself." 

Eileen  opened  her  eyes.   "Jade!"  she  observed,  omoue- 
"Why,  I  don't  remember."    Recalling  Cowperwood's 
:livities  on  the  instant,  she  was  suspicious,  distraught, 
u .  face  dicnred  her  perplexity. 

"Why,  yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Pfatow,  Aileen's  show  of  sur- 

Erise  troubling  her.    "The  ear-rings  and  necklet,  you 
now.    She  said  you  gave  them  to  her." 
"To  be  sure,"  answered  Aileen,  catching  herself  as  by  a 
hair.    "I  do  recall  it  now.    But  it  was  Frank  who  really 
gave  them.   I  hope  dw  Mkes  them." 
She    niled  sweetly. 

"She  thinks  they're  beautiful,  and  they  do  become  her," 
continued  Mrs.  Platow,  pleasantly,  ur  '-^  -ending  it  all. 
as  she  fancied.    The  truth  was  that  F  '  ^viiiw 

gotten,  had  left  her  make-up  box  r 
and  her  BM^er,  rummaging  in  h 
had  discovered  them  and  geniallv 
them,  for  she  knew  the  value  of  jade 

«4l 


THE  T  TAN 


moment,  Stephanie  had  lost  her  mental,  though  not  her 
outward,  composure  and  referred  them  back  casuallv  to 
S^^lVlh'^'  Cowperwoodhome  when  Aileen  had  ^eS 

oiil:    5  matter  was  not  to  be 

«ce^HJ°        r'o''?'  one  aftemSn  to  a 

reception  given  by  Rhees  Gner.  a  young  sculptor  of 

Kijir'^H'^l*^  '^  ^'^  been'intiiluce^d  to Ter  by 
K  niSli       w«  8'ven  a  taste  of  what  it  means  to 

she  entS^oi  Tk'^'  *  52?"^  ^i*^- 

occa«on  she  happened  to  overhear 

S?c2r;«os'"V  V°™'^  behin/ncreenerecJed'to 
S^e  "§£>.*£?'J^  Cowperwood," 
Mia  one.     bhe  s  the  itreet-railway  magnate's  wife.  LaLt 

Gam-cTA         « ^th^t  PiSS;  g»f! 

"Jf*  ^"mck  P'ayers,  vou  know.** 

vei^:  2SS  "^K^*^^  •Pl«difen,us  green- 

A.i'ILT*'?'  ?  'K*  *o  she  queried,  while 

A^ir"'"*''*-?         ."She  looks  daring'enoJSh.- 
wh^n^h  ".'^t'  8""P«^  °f  her  observe*  later, 

minr^i^  l^?"^'"*'        her  face  showed  £ 

Shll"'*^-"'"'if"J*  '^^^^^fJ       «  did  no  good 

w^t^k*^"***"  ''"^  ^""ded  her  in  the  kSSt  way 

as  this!  nouio  cxpow  bu  to  aiKh  gossip 

Pi?^  ^1^1  ^^t^  ^^^^  her  conversation  with  Mrs. 
Platow,  Aileen  happened  to  be  standing  ou^  Ae  d^r 

to^'hT  ,^3^31?"  landing  of  whiSi  coXaStd  3?e 
lower  hall,  and  there  overlieard  two  of  her  servants  AlZ 

B^lKt^'^C^'^  Pa«icl;ia^™ic^^ 

mentvS^  Ar  *^*  ^''^  Perha?s 

twenty-seven  or  eight,  a  chambermaid,  the  other  a  short 

W^^r"  Th^""^  position  of  «s  st»i 

TTot^S^^A  ^  ^  Z-""  P«'"»dm«  to  dust,  though  got- 
™  ErJ^  r  '"i*  'ii^P^r  matter  for  whidi  thev 

n^  lUlVH'^^  had  recency  ^ 

"k  ***r^ ""''y     Aymar  Cochrane,  the  formeTprt^ 
dent  of  the  Chicago  West  Division  Raflwav  3 
director  of  the  new'^m  ^ica^'S.Stey'c^^ 


A  FAMILY  QUARREL 

"And  I  was  that  surprued,"  Aileen  heard  this  girl  sav- 
ing; "to  think  I  should  be  ooming  here.  I  cud  scarcely 
braeve  me  ears  when  they  tdd  me.  Why,  Mms  Florence 
was  runnin'  out  to  meet  him  two  and  three  times  in  the 
week.  The  wonder  to  me  was  that  her  mother  never 
guessed." 

"Och,"  replied  the  other,  "he's  the  very  divil  and  all 
when  it  comes  to  the  wimmin."  (Aileen  did  not  see  the 
upward  lift  of  the  hand  that  accompanied  this).  "There 
was  a  little  girl  that  used  to  come  here.  Her  father  lives 
up  the  street  here.  Haguenin  is  his  name.  He  owns  that 
morning  paper,  the  Prtss^  and  has  a  fine  house  up  the  street 
here  a  little  way.  Well,  I  haven't  seen  her  very  often  of 
late,  but  more  than  once  I  saw  him  kissing  her  in  this  very 
room.  Sure  his  wife  knows  idl  abmit  it.  Depend  oa  it. 
She  had  an  awful  fieht  with  some  woman  here  onct^  so  I 
hear,  some  woman  that  he  was  runnin'  with  and  bringin' 
here  to  the  house.  I  hear  it's  somethin'  terrible  the  way 
she  beat  her  up — screamin'  and  carryin'  on.  Oh,  they're 
the  divil,  these  men,  when  it  comes  to  the  wimmin." 

A  slight  rusding  sound  from  somewhere  sent  the  two 
gossipers  on  their  several  ways,  but  Aileen  had  heard  enough 
to  understand.  What  was  she  to  ^  A  How  was  she  to 
learn  more  of  these  new  women,  of  whom  she  had  never 
heard  at  all?  She  at  once  suspected  Florence  Cochrane, 
for  she  knew  that  this  servant  had  worked  in  the  Cochrane 
family.  And  then  Cecily  Haguenin,  the  daughter  of  the 
editor  with  whom  they  were  on  the  frienduest  terms  I 
Cowperwood  kining  her  I  Was  diere  no  end  to  his  liaisons 
— his  infidelity? 

She  returned,  fretting  and  grievin||,  to  her  room,  where 
she  meditated  and  meditated,  wondering  iHiedier  die  diould 
leave  him,  wondering  whether  she  should  reproach  him 
openly,  wondering  whether  she  should  employ  more  de- 
tectives. What  good  weohi  it  dof  She  had  onployed 
detectives  once.  Had  it  prevented  the  Stephanie  Platow 
incident?  Not  at  all.  Would  it  prevent  other  liaisons 
in  the  future  P  Very  Kbdy  not.  Obviously  her  home 
life  with  Cowperwood  was  coming  to  a  complete  and 
disastrous  end.  Thiii(B  could  iwt  go  on  in  this  way. 
MM  ma  oow  wffoogi  pnniniyt  n  ttinn  HBi  swop  now 

«43 


THE  TITAN 


Mrs.  Cowperwood  number  one,  though  she  could  scarcely 
believe  that,  for  Mrs.  LUUan  Cbwperwood  was  so  un- 
suited  to  him  — but  this  repayment  1  If  she  had  been 
at  all  superstitious  or  religious,  and  had  known  her  Bible, 
which  she  didn  t,  she  might  have  quoted  to  herself  that  very 
tatahstic  statement  of  the  New  Testament,  "With  what 
mwsure  ye  mete  it  shall  be  measured  unto  you  again." 

Ihe  truth  was  that  Cowperwood's  continued  propensity 
to  rove  at  liberty  amone  the  fair  sex  could  not  in  the  lone 
run  fail  of  some  results  of  an  unsatisfactory  characten 
Coincident  with  the  disappearance  of  Stephanie  Platow. 
he  launched  upon  a  variety  of  episodes,  the  charming 
daughter  of  so  worthy  a  man  as  Editor  Haguenin.  his 
sincerest  and  most  sympathetic  journalistic  supporter;  and 
the  daughter  of  Aymar  Cochrane,  falling  victims,  among 
others,  to  what  many  would  have  called  his  wiles.   As  a 
matter  of  fact,  m  moit  cases  he  was  as  much  sinned  against 
as  wmung,  since  the  provocation  was  as  much  offered  as  given 
Ihe  manner  m  which  he  came  to  get  in  with  Cecily 
Haguenin  was  simple  enough.   Being  an  old  friend  of  the 
fclSS"*.?***  *  C«q"«»t  visitor  at  her  father's  house,  he 
found  this  particular  daughter  of  desire  an  easy  victim, 
bhe  was  a  vigorous  blonde  creature  of  twenty  at  this 
ttme.  very  fuH  and  plump,  with  large,  violet  eyes,  and  with 
wnsiderable  alertness  of  mind-r  sort  of  doll  girl  with 
whom  Cowperwood  found  it  pleasant  to  amuse  himself.  A 
pUyfulgambohng  relationship  had  existed  between  them 
When  she  was  a  mere  child  attending  school,  and  had  con- 
tinued through  her  college  years  whenever  she  happened  to 
be  at  home  on  a  vacation.   In  these  very  latest  days  when 
Cowperwood  on  occasion  sat  in  the  Haguenin  library  con- 
sulting with  the  journalist-publisher  concerning  certain 
moves  which  he  wished  to  have  put  right  before  tlie  public 

f/.K^K  f  ^^^'"y-         ">ght,  when  her 

father  had  gone  out  to  look  up  the  previous  action  of  the 
city  council  m  connecti  with  some  matter  of  franchises, 
a  series  of  more  or  sympathetic  and  understanding 
glances  sudden  y  cu  .  J  in  Cecily's  playfully  waving  i 
new  novel,  which  she  .appened  to  Lvt  in  h/r  hand,  in 
S'hiTSS?  '  My,  laid  hold  caressingly 


244 


A  FAMILY  QUARREL 


'You  can't  Mop  me  so  easily,"  she  obtnred,  banter- 

ingly. 

^*  Oh  yes,  I  can,"  he  repUtd. 

A  slight  strug^  ensiMd,  in  whidi  he,  with  her  semi- 
wilful  connivance,  managed  to  manceuver  her  into  his  arms, 
her  head  backward  against  his  shoulder. 

"Wdl,"  she  said,  kwking  up  at  him  with  a  semi-nervous, 
semi-provocadve  gianc^  '"iiow  what?  You'll  just  have  to 
let  me  go." 

"Not  very  soon,  though." 

"Oh  yes,  you  will.   My  father  will  be  here  in  a  mo> 

ment." 

"  Well,  not  until  then,  aay^ww.  Y<m're  getting  to  be  the 
sweetest  airl." 

She  did  not  resist,  but  remained  gazing  half  nervously, 
half  dreamijy  at  him,  whereupon  he  smoothed  her  cheek, 
and  then  kissed  her.  Her  father's  returning  step  put  an 
end  to  this;  but  frcmi  this  point  on  ascent  or  descent  to  a 
perfect  understanding  was  easily  made. 

In  the  matter  of  Florence  Cochrane,  the  daughter  of 
Aymar  Codirane,  the  president  of  the  Qiicago  West  Divi- 
sion Gimpany — a  second  affair  of  the  period — ^the  approach 
was  only  slightly  different,  the  result  the  same.  Ibis  giri, 
to  furmsh  only  a  brief  impression,  was  a  blonde  of  a  dif- 
ferent type  from  Cecily— delicate,  picturesque,  dreamy. 
She  was  mildly  intellectual  at  this  time,  engaged  in  reading 
Marlowe  and  Jonsmi;  and  Cowperwood,  busy  in  the  matter 
of  the  West  Chicago  Street  Railway,  and  conferring  with 
her  father,  was  conceived  by  her  as  a  great  personage  of 
the  EUsabedian  order.  In  a  tentative  way  she  was  in  revolt 
against  an  apple-pie  order  of  existence  which  was  being 
forced  upon  her.  Cowperwood  recognized  the  mood,  trifled 
with  her  spiritedly,  looked  into  her  eyes,  and  foimd  the 
response  he  wanted.  Neither  old  Aymar  Cochrane  nor 
his  impeccably  respectable  wife  ever  discovered. 

Subsequently  Aileen,  reflecting  upon  these  latest  develop- 
ments, was  from  one  point  of  view  actually  pleased  or 
eased.  There  is  always  safety  in  numbers,  and  she  felt  that 
if  Cowperwood  were  going  to  go  on  like  this  it  would  not  be 
possible  for  him  in  the  long  run  to  take  a  definite  interest 

HS 


I 

i 


THE  TITAN 

in  any  one;  and  so,  all  things  considered,  and  other  thtBct 
bemg  eoual,  he  would  probably  just  as  leave  remaiD 
ned  to  her  as  not. 

But  what  a  comment,  she  could  not  help  reflecting,  on 
her  own  charms!  What  an  end  to  an  ideal  union  that  had 
seemed  destined  to  last  all  their  days!  She,  Aileen  Butler, 
who  in  her  youth  had  deemed  herself  the  peer  of  any  riri 
m  charm,  force,  beauty,  to  be  shoved  aside  thus  early  in  her 
hte—she  was  only  forty— by  the  younger  generation.  And 
such  silly  snips  as  they  were-Stephanie  Platow!  and 
Cealy  Haguenm !  and  Florence  Cochrane,  in  all  likelihood 
another  pasty-faced  beginner!  And  here  she  was— 
vigorous,  resplendent,  smooth  of  face  and  body,  her  fore- 
SST*  neck,  eyes  without  a  wrinkle,  her  hair  a  rich 

Snnf^Klnlll  u^'r'^*'^j|*/P  springing,  her  weight  no 
mote  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  for  her  very  normal 
height,  with  all  the  advantages  of  a  complete  toilet  cabinet, 
jewels,  clothing,  taste,  and  skill  in  material  selection-beiS 
elbowed  outbythew  upstarts.  It  was  almost  unbelievable 
It  was  »  unfair.  Life  was  so  cruel,  Cowperwood  so  tem- 
peramentally unbalanced.  Dear  God!  to  think  that  this 
shouW  be  true!  Why  should  he  not  love  her?  She  studied 
her  beaunr  in  the  mirror  from  rime  to  time,  and  raged 

Wk  "k^  I'jL^y  "^""^  sufficient  for  him? 

Why  should  he  deem  any  one  more  beauriful  ?  Why  should 
he  not  be  true  to  h»  reiterated  protestations  that  he  can;d 

father  had  been  faithful  to  her  mother.  At  the  thought  of 
her  own  father  and  his  opinion  of  her  conduct  she  wfnccd. 
but  It  did  not  change  her  point  of  view  as  to  her  preseni 
rights.  Seeher  hai^  See  her  eyes!  See  her  smoitlTre- 
Why.  fndeed?  ^  "  Cowperwood  not  love  her? 
One  night,  shortly  afterward,  she  was  sitting  in  her 

tdinL'k'^/r^'  "^""f'^S  ^"/i"*"?  *?  homeT^hen  the 
tekphone-bell  sounded  and  he  informed  her  that  he  was 

Kfikl  k   "tr  ^'U  Afterward  he  said 

he  might  be  obliged  to  run  on  to  Kttsburg  for  thirty-six 

hours  or  thereabouts,;  but  he  would  surelybe  back  Si 

iriil*  ^^M~""""«I*'*  Pi'?*"^  Aileen  was  cha- 
grmed.   Her  voice  rficmwi  it.  They  had  been  scheduled 

246 


A  FAMILY  QUARREL 

to  go  to  dinner  with  the  Hoecksemas,  and  afterward  to 
the  theater.  Cowperwood  suggested  that  she  should  go 
alone,  but  Aileen  declined  rather  sharply ;  she  hung  up  the 
receiver  without  even  the  pretense  of  a  good-by.  And 
then  at  ten  o'clock  he  telephoned  again,  saying  that  he 
had  chaneed.  his  mind,  and  tfar.t  if  she  were  interested  to 

So  anywhere— a  later  supper,  or  the  like — she  should 
ress,  otherwise  he  would  come  home  expecting  to  remain. 
Aileen  immediately  concluded  that  some  schenM  he  had 
had  to  amuse  himself  had  fallen  through.  Having  spoiled 
her  evening,  he  was  coming  home  to  make  as  much  hay 
as  possible  out  of  this  bit  of  sunshine.  This  infuriated  her. 
The  whole  business  of  uncertainty  in  the  matter  of  his  affec- 
timis  was  telling  on  her  nerves.  A  storm  was  in  order, 
and  it  had  come.  He  came  bustling  in  a  little  later, 
slipped  his  arms  around  her  as  she  came  forward  and 
kisMd  her  on  the  mouth.  He  smoothed  her  arms  in  a 
make-believe  and  yet  tender  way,  and  patted  her  shoulders. 
Seeine  her  frown,  he  inquired,  "What's  troubling  Baby- 
kins?^ 

"Oh,  nothing  more  than  usual,"  replied  AJIeen,  irritably. 
"Let's  not  talk  about  that.    Have  you  had  your  dinner?" 

"Yes,  we  had  it  brought  in."  He  was  rrferring  to 
McKenty,  Addison,  and  himself,  and  the  statement  was 
true.  Keing  in  an  honest  position  for  once,  he  felt  called 
upon  to  justify  himself  a  little.  "It  couldn't  be  avoided 
to-night.  I'm  sorry  that  this  business  takes  up  so  much 
of  my  time,  but  I'll  get  out  of  it  some  day  soon.  Things 
are  bound  to  ease  up." 

Aileen  withdrew  trom  his  embrace  and  went  to  her 
dressing-table.  A  glance  showed  her  that  her  hair  was 
slightly  awry,  and  she  nnoothed  it  into  place.  She  looked 
at  her  chin,  and  thai  wait  back  to  her  hook — rat^r 
sulkily,  he  thought. 

"Now,  Aileen,  nHiat's  the  trouble?"  he  inquired.  "Aren't 
you  glad  to  have  me  up  here?  I  know  you  have  had  a 
pretty  rough  road  of  it  of  late,  but  aren't  you  willins  to 
let  bygones  be  bygones  and  trust  to  the  future  a  little?" 

"The  future!  The  future!  Don't  talk  to  me  about  the 
future.  It's  little  enough  it  holds  in  store  for  me,"  she 
rei^ttd. 

H7 


THE  TITAN 

Cowpcrwood  saw  that  she  was  veinng  on  an  emotional 
storm,  but  he  trusted  to  his  powen  of  persuasion,  and  her 
basic  affection  for  him,  to  soothe  and  quell  her. 
„v     L  act  this  way,  pet,"  he  went  on. 

You  know  I  have  always  cared  for  you.  You  know  I 
always  shall.  1 11  admit  that  there  are  a  lot  of  little  things 
which  interfere  with  my  being  at  home  at  much  as  I 
would  like  at  present;  but  that  doesn't  alter  the  fact  that 
my  feelmg  u  the  same.  I  should  think  you  could  see 
that. 

"Feeling!  Feeling!"  taunted  Aileen,  suddenly.  "Yes, 
1  Jcnow  how  much  feeling  you  have.  You  have  feeling 
enough  to  give  other  women  sets]  of  jade  and  jewels,  and 
tonin  around  with  evciy  silly  little  snip  you  meet.  You 
ne^n  t  come  home  here  at  ten  o'clock,  when  you  can't  go 
anywhere  else,  and  talk  about  feeling  for  me.  I  kn^ 
how  much  feelmg  you  have.    Pshaw  l''^ 

She  flung  herself  irritably  back  in  her  chair  and  opened 
her  book.  Cowperwood  gazed  at  her  solemnly,  for  this 
thrust  in  regard  to  Stephanie  was  a  revebtioii.  This 
woman  busmess  could  grow  peculiarly  nnispfratins  at 
tunes.  • 

"What  do  you  mean,  anyhow?"  he  observed,  cautiously 
and  with  much  seenung  candor.  "I  haven't  given  any 
jade  or  jewels  to  any  one,  nor  have  I  been  running  around 
with  any  httle  snips,'  as  you  call  them.  Idla?t  know 
what  vou  are  talkmg  about,  Aileen." 

Oh,  Frank,"  commented  Aileen,  wearily  and  incredu- 
lously, you  he  so!  Why  do  you  stand  there  and  Be? 
1  m  so  ored  of  it;  I  m  so  sick  of  it  all.  How  should  the  ser- 
vants know  of  so  many  things  to  talk  of  here  if  they 
weren  t  true?  I  didn't  invite  Mrs.  Platow  to  come  and 
ask  me  why  you  had  given  her  daughter  a  set  of  jade.  I 
know  why  you  lie;  you  want  to  hush  me  up  and  keep  quiet. 
You  re  afraid  1 11  go  to  Mr.  Haeuenin  or  Mr.  Cochrane  or 
Mr.  Platow.  or  to  all  three.  Well  you  can  rest  your  soul 
on  that  score.  I  won't.  I'm  sick  of  you  and  your  lies. 
Stephanie  Platow-the  thin  stick!  Cecily  Haguinin-the 
1^1  J'a^a°{  IV/?^  /aA?^  Florence  Cochrane-she  looks 
Sirl^  .?t^*r  »  fo'  character- 

iMtKm  at  times.)  "If  it  just  wma't  for  the  way  I 

348 


A  FAMILY  QUARREL 

acted  toward  my  family  in  Philadelphia,  and  the  talk 
it  would  create,  and  the  iniury  it  would  do  you  finan- 
cially, I'd  act  to-morrow.  I  d  leave  you — that  s  what  I'd 
do.  And  to  think  that  I  should  ever  have  believed  that 
you  '  loved  me,  or  could  care  for  any  woman  perma- 
nent dosh!  But  I  don't  care.  Go  on!  Only  I'll  tell 
you  jr.  .hine.  You  needn't  think  I'm  going  to  eo  on 
enduring  all  this  as  I  have  in  the  past.  I'm  not.  You're 
not  going  to  deceive  me  always.  I'm  not  going  to  stand 
it.  I'm  not  so  old  yet.  There  are  plenty  of  men  who  will 
be  glad  to  pay  me  attention  if  you  won't.  I  told  you  once 
that  I  wouldn't  be  faithful  to  you  if  you  weren't  to  mtf 
and  I  won't  be.  I'll  show  you.  I'll  go  with  otiwr  men.  I 
will  I   I  will!   I  swear  it." 

"Aileen,"  he  asked,  softly,  pleadingly,  realizing  the 
futility  of  additional  lies  under  such  circumstances,  "won't 
you  forsive  me  this  time?  Bear  with  me  for  the  present. 
1  scarcenr  understand  myself  at  timet.  I  am  not  like  other 
men.  You  and  I  have  run  together  a  long  time  now.  Why 
not  wait  awhile?  Give  me  a  chancel  See  if  I  do  not 
chance.   I  maj^." 

"(Jn  yes,  wait!  Change.  You  may  change.  Haven't 
I  waited?  Haven't  I  walked  the  floor  night  after  night! 
when  you  haven't  been  here  ?  Bear  with  you— yes,  yes! 
Who's  to  bear  with  me  when  my  heart  is  breaking?  Oh, 
God!"  she  suddenly  added,  with  passionate  visor,  "I'm 
miserable!   I'm  miserable!  My  heart  achetl  ft  ac^etl** 

She  clutched  her  breast  and  swung  from  the  room,  mov- 
ing with  that  vieorous  stride  that  nad  once  appealed  to 
him  so,  and  ttill  aid.  Alas,  alas!  it  touched  him  now,  but 
only  as  a  part  of  a  very  shifty  and  cruel  world.  He  hurried 
out  of  the  lOom  after  her,  and  (as  at  the  time  of  the  Rita 
Sohlberg  incident)  slipped  his  arm  about  her  waist;  but 
she  puUed  away  irritably.  "No,  aol"  she  exclaimed. 
"Let  me  alone.    I'm  tired  of  that." 

"You're  really  not  fair  to  me,  Aileen,"  with  a  great  show 
of  feeling  and  sincerity.  "You're  letting  one  affair  that 
came  between  us  blind  your  whole  point  of  view.  I  rive 
you  my  word  I  haven't  been  unfaithful  to  you  with  Ste- 
phanie Platow  or  any  other  woman,  i  may  have  fiAted 
with  them  a  little,  but  that  is  really  nothing.   Why  not  be 

m 


THE  TITAN 

sensible?  I'm  not  as  black  as  you  paint  me.  I'm  moving 
m  big  matters  that  are  as  much  for  your  ooneetn  um 
future  as  for  mine.    Be  sensible,  be  liberal." 

There  was  much  argument— the  usual  charges  and 
counterchaiges  — but,  finally,  because  of  her  weariness  of 
heart,  his  petting,  the  unsolvability  of  it  all,  she  permitted 
him  for  the  time  being  to  persuade  her  that  there  were 
still  some  crumbs  of  affection  left.  She  was  soul-sick, 
heart&ick.  Even  he,  as  he  attempted  to  soothe  her,  realized 
clearly  that  to  establish  the  reality  of  his  love  in  her  belief 
he  would  have  to  make  some  much  greater  effort  to  enter- 
tain and  comfort  her,  and  that  this,  in  his  present  mood, 
aiM  witti  hit  leaning  toward  promiscuity,  was  practically 
impossible.  For  the  time  being  a  peace  might  be  patched 
"P»  w  y»ew  of  what  she  expected  of  him— her  passion 
•nd  selfish  individuality— it  could  not  be.  He  would  have 
to  go  on,  and  she  would  have  to  leave  him,  if  needs  be; 
but  he  could  not  cease  or  go  back.  He  was  too  passionate, 
too  radiant,  too  indinduiil  and  complex  to  belong  to  any 
one  arngkindindital  alone.  ' 


CHAPTER  XXX 

0B8TACLB1 


THE  impediments  that  can  arise  to  baffle  a  great  and 
•weUuig  career  are  stranee  and  various.  In  some  in- 
stances all  the  cross-waves  of  life  must  be  cut  by  the  tcroog 
swimmer.  With  other  personalities  there  is  a  chance,  or 
force,  that  happily  alUet  ttaelf  with  them;  or  they  quite 
unconsciously  ally  themselves  with  it,  and  find  that  dien 
"  *  them  on.   Divine  will?  Not  necet- 

Mrily.  Thereniioiindentaiidtiigofit.  Guardian  spirits? 
rhere  are  many  who  so  believe,  to  their  utter  undoinc. 
(Witness  Macbeth).  An  uncotudotu  drift  in  the  din». 
two  of  nght,  virtue,  duty?  Theae  are  banners  of  mortal 
manufacture.   Nothing  is  proved;  all  is  permitted. 
m     c^P^  2"*r  Cowperwood's  accession  to  control  on  the 
west  bide,  for  instance,  a  contest  took  place  between  his 
corporation  and  a  citizen  by  the  name  of  Redmond  Purdy 
—real-estate  investor,  property-trader,  and  money-lender— 
which  set  Chicago  by  tiie  ears.  The  La  Salk  and  Wasl^ 
ton  btreet  tunnels  were  now  in  active  service,  but  because 
Of  the  great  north  and  south  area  of  the  West  Side,  ne- 
cessitatme  the  cabling  of  Van  Buren  Street  and  Blue  Island 
Avraue,  there  was  need  of  a  third  tunnel  somewhere  south 
ofj^mgton  Street,  preferably  at  Van  Buren  Street^ 
Dccaiiie  the  busmess  heart  was  thus  more  directly  readied. 
Jjowperwood  was  willing  and  anxious  to  build  this  tunnel, 
though  he  was  pur-'  }  how  to  secure  from  the  dty  a  right 

hJ^J^i"       ^™  » ^ 

traffic  n<m  swung.  There  were  all  sorts  of  compHca- 

*  w  pI**^       consent  of  the  War  Depart- 

n«A.        •  ^  «         to  tunnel 

und«  the  nver  at  all.  Secondly,  the  excavation,  if  directly 
"»«r  the  badge,  might  prove  an  intolerable  nuisance, 


THE  TITAN 


Mcoatatiiig  the  dosing  or  removal  of  die  bridce  Owin. 
wAecnocal  not  to  „y  hoitile,  attituderfthe5ew.DS 
•J^«~  the  La  Sail,  and  Washingt"  tunnd  ."SSS 

3&d*„5f.rp^i.r:hrJt;s?^^^^^^^ 
git;n»4^a;5rxd^esfcH5 

nel  could  proceed  without  interference. 

ICO     Fcn^\J^  T'""  ^his  purpose,  «  bt 

ru^UA  i  '  ^'"^  *  ''"'^  «he  river-Unk.  oc^ 

.    cupied  by  a  seven-story  loft-buildine  was  »mrimA  lk„  ^ 
previously  mentioned  Kdmond  K^l^  a  onTtWn  LJu' 
tpoice  with  a  nasal  intonation. 
Cowperwood  had  the  customary  overtures  made  hv 

wood's  ubicuitou.  i^^:  '^'!'7::^^i':::;7o^:''s; 

nnh£  k2         Cowperwood,  who  at  once  sent  for  those 

Srckle  ^ndTh/H  "'^  1?"**  General  Van 

Genernl  vvfc  n     K°"'  .K«nt.B?"ows  McKibben.  The 

wL  thfnlTn  "orni'n  — '"^'-^^^^^  Cowperwood 
n^Li-IH  ^  of  pensioning  him;  but  McKibben  was  in  his 

ft  oTHS^M^'t «"'«>'*^-  After  alking 
offio?  T??"«y  they  returned  to  Cowperwood'! 

e^,h  J""^  "  promising  scheme.  The  H.>n.  NalurTSck- 
peat  and  a'nl^'  State  Court  ofX 

need  not  her.  attached,  by  methods  which 

^^rauadU^  to  ^rt'^u^^"^'     Cowperwood's  star,  had  been 

FSn  t^"'*  r  r        begu"SsTat  theTaTt  or 

«The  wefjTrrn  'l  J'^""'  "^'y  "^°«hs'  digging 

at  tne  west  or  Canal  Street  end.    A  shaft  wa« 

sank  „™e  thirty  fea  bad  of  Mr?  pISdy'r  bdSS^ 


OBSTACLES 

bet^esn  it  and  the  river— while  that  gentleman  wttdied 

vnth  a  quizzical  gleam  in  his  eye  this  defiant  procedure^ 
He  was  sure  that  when  it  came  to  the  necessity  of  anm*^n£ 
his  property  the  North  and  West  Chicago  Sticet  Railways 
would  be  oblieed  to  pay  through  the  nose. 

"We  I,  I'll  be  cussed,"  he  frequently  observed  to  him- 
self, for  he  could  not  see  how  his  exaction  of  a  pound  of 
flesh  was  to  be  evaded,  and  yet  he  felt  strangely  restless 
at  trniea.  Finally,  when  it  became  absolutely  necessary 
for  Cowperwood  to  secure  widiottt  further  delay  this  cov- 
eted  strip,  he  sent  for  its  occupant,  who  called  in  pleasant 
anticipation  of  a  profitable  conversation;  this  should  be 
worth  a  small  fortune  to  him. 

"Mr.  Purdy/*  observed  Cowperwood,  glibly,  "you  have 
a  piece  of  land  on  the  other  side  of  the  nver  that  I  need. 
Why  don  t  you  sell  it  to  rati  Can't  we  fix  this  ttp  now  in 
some  amicable  way?" 

He  smiled  mhile  Purdy  cast  shrewd,  wolfish  glances  about 
the  place,  wondering  how  much  he  could  really  hope  to 
exact.  The  building,  with  all  its  interior  equipment,  land, 
and  all,  was  worth  in  the  neighborhood  of  two  hundred 
thousand  dollars. 

"Why  should  I  sell?  The  building  is  a  good  building. 
It  8  at  useful  to  me  as  it  would  be  to  you.  I'm  makine 
money  out  of  it."  * 

"Quite  true,"  replied  Cowperwood,  "but  I  am  willing 
to  pay  you  a  fair  price  for  it.  A  public  utility  is  involved. 
Ihis  tunnel  will  be  a  good  thing  for  the  West  Side  and  any 
other  land  you  may  own  over  there.  With  what  I  will  pay 
you  you  can  buy  more  land  in  that  neighborhood  or  dS^ 
Where,  and  make  a  good  thing  out  of  it.  We  need  to  put 
this  tunnel  just  where  it  is,  or  I  wouldn't  trouble  to  ancue 
withyou.  * 

"Tliat's  just  it,"  replied  Purdy,  fixedly.    "You've  gone 
ahead  and  dug  your  tunnel  without  consulting  me,  and  now 
you  expect  me  to  get  out  of  the  way.   Well,  I  don't  see 
°"  *°      out  of  there  just  to  please  yoo.** 
I  H  pay  you  a  fair  price." 
How  much  will  you  pay  me?" 
How  much  do  you  want?" 
Mr.  Purdy  scratchMi  a  fox-like  ear.  "One  million  dollars." 

H3 


THE  TITAN 

tt't  worth/  mow  disB 

Cowperwood  sighed. 

ceiling.  •  ^^y»  ''^^kwt  fmfy  at  the 


but  whatTou  ask  is  far  foo^Jlfl       '  reasooable  sum; 

tonnd  evMi  yet."  ^'        •"H"  ■»»•  dw 

"""'ion  "ioHars."  uid  Ptirfy. 

change  your  mind  later."  "  U 

ye"and  MfJ^n^^'  O.e'tS^T^  r"^" 

or  two  later,  Ae  h^.lw^.^'''  "ftemoon,  a  week 

vacated  for  Ae  da^  a       "1  "*r  ?  "^T''""  •>«« 

with  wagonsrJiS'rf^vZ  r/j'''"'  ''""'^'^'' 

Mr.  Redmond  SSj^r,Sr^,*f  P""?  "f 

*S4  www  apinMuea  tOe 


OBSTACLES 

But,  stnmge  to  say,  tliu  was  of  little  avail,  hi  they  were 
shown  a  writ  of  inluaction  iMued  by  the  court  of  highest 
jurisdiction,  presided  over  by  the  Hon.  Nahum  £>icken- 
flheets,  which  restrained  all  and  simdry  from  interfering. 
(Subsequently  on  demand  of  another  court  this  remarkable 
document  was  discovered  to  have  disappeared;  the  con- 
tenrion  wai  duit  h  htd  never  fwliy  ockttd  or  bem  piodwed 
at  alL) 

The  demolition  and  digging  proceeded.   Then  began  a 
scurrying  of  lawyers  tc  the  dcx)r  of  one  friendiy  judfe  after 
another.  There  were  apoplectic  cheeks,  blazing  eyes,  and 
gasps  for  breath  while  the  enormity  of  the  dffiense  was  being 
noised  abroad.    Law  is  law,  however.   Frooedure  is  pi»> 
cedure,  and  no  writ  of  injunction  was  either  issiable  or 
retumaUe  on  a  lecal  hdiday,  when  no  courts  were  sitting. 
Nevertheless,  by  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  an  obligii^ 
magistrate  was  found  who  consented  to  issue  an  injunction 
»t»yjng  this  terrible  crime.   By  tWs  time,  however,  the 
building  was  gone,  the  excavation  complete,    it  remained 
merely  for  the  West  Chicajp)  Street  Railway  Company  to 
secure  an  injunction  vacating  the  fine  injimction,  praving 
that  its  rights,  privileges,  liberties,  etc.,  be  not  interfen^ 
with,  and  so  creating  a  contest  which  naturally  threw  the 
"""er  ;nto  the  State  Court  of  Appeals,  where  it  couM 
safeljr  he.    For  several  years  there  were  numberiess  in- 
junctions, writs  of  errors,  doubts,  morions  to  teomsider, 
threats  to  carry  tbe  matter  from  the  state  to  the  federal 
*  matter  of  constiturional  privilege,  and  the  like. 
The  affair  was  finally  settled  out  of  court,  for  Mr.  Purdy 
by  this  time  was  a  more  sensible  man.    In  the  mean  time, 
hwever,  the  newspapers  had  been  given  full  details  of 
tbeuansacdon,  and  a  storm  of  words  against  O>wperwood 


But  more  disturbing  than  the  Redmond  Purdy  incident 
was  the  nvalnr  of  a  new  Chicago  street-railway  company. 

V  *•       *****      *®  ^^^^^  °^  one  James 

r  uimvale  Woolsen,  a  determined  young  Wf -sterner  from 
California,  and  developed  by  degrees  into  consents  and 
peations  from  fully  two-thirds  of  the  residents  of  various 
•treets  m  the  extreme  southwest  section  of  the  city  where 

m 


THE  TITAN 

it  was  proposed  the  new  line  should  be  located.  Thb 
same  James  Fumivale  Woolsen,  being  an  ambitious  person, 
was  not  to  be  so  easily  put  down.  Besides  the  consent 
and  petitions,  which  Cowperwood  could  not  easily  get  away 
from  him,  he  had  a  new  form  of  traction  then  being  tried 
out  in  several  minor  cities— a  form  of  electric  propulsion 
by  means  of  an  overhead  wire  and  a  traveling  pole,  which 
was  said  to  be  very  economical,  and  to  give  a  service  better 
than  cables  and  cheaper  even  than  horses. 

Cowperwood  had  heard  all  about  this  new  electric  sys- 
tem some  time  before,  and  had  been  studying  it  for  several 
vears  with  the  greatest  interest,  since  it  promised  to  revo- 
lutionize the  whole  business  of  street-railroading.  How- 
ever, having  but  so  recently  completed  his  excellent  cable 
system,  he  did  not  see  that  it  was  advisable  to  throw  it 
away,  ihe  trolley  was  as  yet  too  much  of  a  novelty: 
certainly  it  was  not  advisable  to  have  it  introduced  into 
Chicago  until  he  was  ready  xo  introduce  it  himself-first 
onjM.^  outlying  feeder  lines,  he  thought,  then  peihaps 

But  before  he  could  take  suitable  action  against  Wool- 
sen,  that  enjiaging  young  upstart,  who  was  possessed  of  a 
high-power  imagination  and  a  gift  of  aab,  had  allied  him- 
self with  such  interested  investors  as  Truman  Leslie  Mac- 
Uonald,  who  saw  here  a  heaven-sent  opportunity  of  mulct- 
ing Cowperwood,  and  Jordan  Jules,  once  the  president  of 
the  North  Chicago  Gas  Company,  who  had  lost  money 
through  Cowperwood  m  th-  gas  war.   Two  better  instru- 
ments for  goading  a  man  whom  they  considered  an  enemy 
could  not  well  be  imagined— Truman  Leslie  with  his  dark, 
waspish,  mistrustful,  jealous  eyes,  and  his  slim,  vital  body; 
and  Jordan  Jules,  short,  rotund,  sandy,  a  sickly  crop  of  thin, 
oily,  hght  hair  growing  down  over  his  coat-collar,  his  fore- 
head and  crpwn  glisteningly  bald,  his  eyes  a  seeking, 
jearchmg^  revengeTuI  blue.   They  in  turn  brought  in 
bamuel  Blackman,  once  president  of  the  South  Side  Gas 
Company;  Sunderland  Sledd,  of  local  railroad  manage- 

nJJUf^/n"/         -T^"^T'"^*  Norrie  Simms, 

president  of  the  Douglas  Trust  Company,  who,  however 

IVJ  ri~l!^^."  a  Hscal  agent.  The  general  feeling  was 
tnat  ixmpcrwood  s  defensive  tactics^hich  consisted  in 

156 


OBSTACLES 

having  the  dty  ootmcU  refute  to  act— «Hddl  he  euOy 
met. 

"Well,  I  think  we  can  toon  fix  that,"  exdaimed  young 
MacDonald,  one  morning  at  a  meeting.  "We  ought  to  be 
able  to  smoke  them  out.   A  little  publicity  will  do  it." 

He  appealed  to  hi«  father,  the  editor  of  the  Inquirer,  but 
the  latter  refused  to  act  'ir  the  time  being,  seeing  that 
his  son  was  interested.  MacDonald,  enraged  at  the 
do-nothing  attitude  of  the  council,  invaded  that  body  and 
demanded  of  Alderman  Dowling,  still  leader,  why  this 
matter  of  the  Chicaeo  eeneral  ordinances  was  still  lying 
unconsidered.  Mr.  Dowling,  a  large,  mushy,  placid  man 
with  blue  eyes,  an  iron  frame,  and  a  beefy  smile,  vouchsafed 
the  information  that,  although  he  was  chairman  of  the 
committee  on  streets  and  alleys,  he  knew  noth&ig  about  it. 

1  haven  t  been  payin'  much  attention  to  thma  lately." 
he  rephed.  ' 

Mr.  MacDonald  went  to  see  the  remaining  members 
of  this  same  committee.  They  were  non-committal.  They 
would  have  to  look  into  the  matter.  Somebody  claimed 
that  there  was  a  flaw  in  the  petitions. 

Evidently  there  was  crooked  work  here  somewhere. 
Cowperwood  was  to  blame,  no  doubt.  MacDonald  con- 
ferred with  Blackman  and  Jordan  Jules,  and  it  was  de- 
termined that  the  council  should  be  harried  into  doing 
Its  duty.  This  was  a  legitimate  enterprise.  A  new 
and  better  system  of  traction  was  being  kept  out  of  the 
city.  Schryhart,  since  he  was  offered  an  interest,  and 
wnce  there  was  considerable  chance  of  his  being  able  to 
dominate  the  new  enterprise,  agreed  that  the  ordinances 
ought  to  be  acted  upon.  In  consequence  there  was  a  to- 
newed  hubbub  m  the  newspapers. 

It  was  pointed  out  through  Schryhart's  Chronicle, 
through  Hyssop  s  and  Merrill's  papers,  and  through  the 
inquirer  that  such  a  situation  was  intolerable.  If  the 
dominant  party,  at  the  behest  of  so  sinister  an  influence  as 
Uwperwood,  was  to  tie  up  all  outside  traction  legislation, 
there  could  be  but  one  thing  left— an  appeal  to  dw  voteri 
ot  the  oty  to  turn  the  rascals  out.  No  party  could  sur- 
vm  sudi  a  record  of  political  trickery  and  financial  iug- 
iwiy.  Mc&tMy,  Uowttng,  Cowperwood,  ud  odmt 
»  *S7 


THE  TITAN 

characteriied  M  unreasonable  obstructionwts  and  deba*. 
ing  influences.  But  Cowpemood  merely  smiled.  Then 
XkI^ix!!'  "terwaulings  of  the  enemy.  Later,  when  young 
J?Mn^X*;*'^  threatened  to  bring  le^al  action  to  comjil  d2 
council  to  do  Its  duty,  CowperwooJ  and  his  associatSTwere 
^^  Ji:  ^  "»"«*»™"«  proceeding,  however  futile, 
wwiw  give  the  neipvspapers  great  opportunity  for  chatter; 

MckZIJ  ^  J^'V^  ^'^^'^'^^  r^*'  ^"^'"8  However 
Tk^  iSLt^  Cowperwood  were  by  no  means  helpless. 

JvSm^.    f*^  I^"**''  »  '^eH-oreaniied  party 

Where  at  late  hours  ballot-boxes  are  incontinently  stuffed. 

all  Or  M*?"^"^  ^t"*^  pei«,naUy  in  all  this?  Not  at 
aU.   Or  McKenty.?   No.    In  good  tweed  and  fine  linen 

C^mn3'?K^  "  Chicago  Tni« 

president',  office  of  the  North  Chicago 
Street  Railway  System,  and  Mr.  Cowperwood's  UbratV 
S?.n  K*""'"       ^""^^  But  just  the  samk 

iJr^r.'^  T  ^?"«vi>»«  Schryhart-Simms-MacDoiwld 
fc^S  ^E™"*''"^ 4'^  Mr.  McKenty's  party 

had  the  votes.  A  number  of  the  most  flagrantly  debauchea 
aldermen.  ,t  is  true,  were  defeated;  but%Sat  i.  an  K 

Sf'o^I^o"'   '^^  newly  elected  ones',  eve"  in  the 
preelection  promises  and  vows,  could  be  easily 
rabomed  or  convinced.   So  the  anti-Cowpemood  demrat 
w«  r'lT*''''  "  the  fXiaTainsThhS 

^th^nf-Ki"""?"*  considerable  sentimLt  generatS 
in  the  public  at  [arge  that  there  was  wuiethtng  wmt^ 
the  Cowperwood  method  o(  mm-aSm^^Su^ 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


VNTOWAM)  DISCLOtUmit 

COINCIDENT  with  these  public  ditturbancet  and 
of  cubsequent  bearing  upon  them  was  die  discovery 
bjr  Editor  Haguenin  of  Cowperwood's  relationship  with 
Cecily.  It  came  about  not  through  Aikoi.  who  was 
no  longer  willing  to  fight  Cowperwood  in  ttis  matter, 
but  through  Haguenin[s  lady  societj^  editor,  who,  hear- 
rumors  in  the  social  world,  springing  from  heaven 
knows  where,  and  being  benoldoi  to  Haguenin  for 
many  favors,  had  carried  the  matter  to  him  in  a  very 
direct  way.  Haguenin,  a  man  of  insuifident  worldlinc«s 
in  spite  of  his  joumalittic  profinsion,  scarcely  believed  it. 
Cowperwood  was  so  suave,  so  commercial.  He  had  heard 
many  things  concerning  him — his  past — but  Cowperwood's 
present  sute  in  Chicago  was  such,  it  seemedl  to  mxh  as  to 
preclude  petty  affairs  of  this  kind.  Srill,  the  name  of  his 
daughter  being  involved,  he  took  the  matter  up  with  Cecily, 
who  unda  pressure  confessed.  She  made  the  usual  plea 
that  she  was  of  age,  and  that  she  wished  to  live  her  own  life 
— logic  which  she  had  gathered  largely  from  Cowperwood's 
attitude.  Haguenin  did  nothine  about  it  at  first,  thinking 
to  send  Cecily  off  to  an  aunt  in  Nebraska;  but,  finding  her 
intractable,  and  fearing  some  counter-advice  or  reprisal  on 
toe  part  of  Cowperwood,  who,  by  the  way,  had  mdorsed 

E'P«r  tt>  the  extent  of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  for 
m,  he  deaded  to  discuss  matters  first.  It  meant  a  cessa- 
tion of  relations  and  some  inomvenient  financial  readjust- 
ments; but  it  had  to  be.  He  was  just  on  the  point  of  csAl- 
i^g  on  Cowperwood  irtien  the  latter,  unaware  as  yet  of 
the  latest  development  in  regard  to  Cecily,  and  baviag 
rome  variation  of  his  a>uncil  programme  to  discuss  wi«i 
Haguenin,  tukti  hun  over  the  'phcme  to  lunch.  Ha^pientn 

«S9 


THE  TITAN 


was  much  surprised,  but  in  a  way  relieved.  "I  am  bu«v  " 
he  said,  very  lieavily,  "but  caiiik>t  you  come  to  Se  3L 

or^r  ''l^'i'T^S'."'"^  ^^^^  ^^^^  '^as  some  editorial 
orbcal  pohtical  development  on  foot  which  might  bTof 
mtM«st  to  h.m,  made  an  appointment  for  shortly  after 
^""^  '°  the  pubhslier's  office  in  the  Press  Build- 
mgj^  and  was  greeted  by  a  grave  and  almott  deapooSttt 

Jt^^A  ^°^P«'^opd.';  began  Haguenin,  when  the  financier 

2ke  fourtir^rr*  AA^""-  'J^^  ^^'^  something 

T  ^"^^  ^"""g       time  I  have  shown  vou 

"  cenVlt  vo..T""J  true  tharqSe 

recently  you  have  done  me  various  financial  favors  but 

you  C  me  than"';  ^  '^T^'^  ^  '^A  «"cere 'frTendshio 
fave  'earned  of  th!*"  ^"y^'^'"?  accidentally  ! 

and  mvT...„»./  relationship  that  exists  between  you 
she  admitirt^K  \  ^^""f  '"?"^'y  'P^^^^  to  her,  Ld 
m '"^"?'8ht  have  suggested  to  you  that  you  leave 

k  Ls  not^Tl'V  ^ degraded  W 
It  has  not,  I  merely  wish  to  say  to  you"— and  Mr.  HaeuS 

b"4enloul^5r and  whnel-that  thJ  Sfh? 

dollars  vou  hJ^.^^i*  '"i'^t  *'""d^«d  'housanS 

aoiiars  you  have  mdorsed  for  me  w  U  be  arramred  for 

othenv.se  as  soon  as  powible,  and  I  h^ie  yoJ^^Jtum 

SiSher  tV^of  maiV^^         y^U^^*^  as^lla^?aT 
von  '^.ff     •   '  ^•"v^^^Petwood,  might  attempt  to 

see  that  this  policy  does  not  pay  in  ChiL^or 

CowXt"d'wT;o'^h''r/>'  ""J"''  ''^'''^  his  desk. 
fiJ^K  listened  very  pat  entiv  and  verv 

'rLrJr'  '  eyelaTh,  merely^saiSr  ^ 

Mr  H^u/JT''  intellectual  ground, 

Mr.  Haguemn,  upon  which  ^ou  and  I  can  meet  in  thi^ 


UNTOWARD  DISCLOSURES 

matter.  You  cannot  understand  my  point  of  view.  I 
could  not  possibly  adopt  yours.    However,  as  you  wish 
the  stock  will  be  returned  to  you  upon  receipt  ckT  my  uidone> 
ments.   I  cannot  tay  more  than  that." 

He  turned  and  walked  unconcernedly  out,  thinking  that 
it  was  too  bad  to  lose  the  support  of  so  respectable  a  man, 
but  also  that  he  could  do  witnout  it.  It  was  silly  the  way 
parents  insisted  on  their  dai4{hten  being  KMuettii^  that 
they  did  not  wish  to  be. 

Haguenin  stood  by  his  desk  after  G>wperwood  had  gone, 
wondering  where  he  should  get  one  hundred  thousanadol- 
lars  quickly,  and  also  what  he  should  do  to  make  his 
daughter  see  the  error  of  her  ways.  It  was  an  astonishing 
blow  he  had  received,  he  thought,  in  the  house  of  a  friend. 
It  occurred  to  him  that  Walter  Melville  Hyssop,  who  was 
succeeding  mightily  with  his  two  papers,  might  a»ne  to 
his  rescue,  and  that  later  he  could  repay  him  when  the 
Press  was  more  prosperous.  He  went  out  to  his  house  in 
a  quandary  concerning  life  and  chance;  while  Gowperwood 
went  to  the  Chicago  Trust  Company  to  confer  with  Videra, 
and  later  out  to  his  own  home  to  consider  how  he  should 
equalize  this  loss.  The  state  and  fate  ci  Cecily  Haguenin 
was  not  of  so  much  importance  at  niaiqr  other  on 
his  mind  at  this  time. 

Far  more  serious  were  his  cogitations  with  regard  to  a 
haison  he  had  recently  ventured  to  establish  with  Mrs. 
Hosmer  Hand,  wife  of  ,  an  eminent  investor  and  financier. 
Hand  was  a  solid,  phlegmatic,  heavy-thinkinr  person  who 
had  srnne  years  before  Tost  his  first  wife,  to  whom  he  had 
been  eminently  faithful.  After  that,  for  a  period  of  years 
he  had  been  a  lonely  speculator,  attending  to  his  vast  affairs; 
but  finally  because  of  his  enormous  wealth,  his  rather  pre- 
sentable appearance  and  social  rank,  he  had  been  entrapped 
by  much  social  attention  on  the  part  of  a  Mrs.  Jessie  Drew 
Barrett  into  marrying  her  daughter  Caroline,  a  dashing 
skip  of  a  girl  v.  ho  was  clever,  incisive,  calculating,  and  in- 
tensely gay.  Since  she  was  socially  ambitious,  and  without 
much  heart,  the  thought  of  Hand's  millions,  and  how  ad- 
vantageous would  be  her  situarion  in  case  he  should  die,  had 
enabled  her  to  overlook  quite  easily  his  heavy,  unyoutkful 

261 


THE  TITAN 


appearance  and  to  see  him  in  the  light  of  a  lover  Th*«. 

H.«Ii  k  ^••^^t^'ng  was  very  we  attended.  Mn. 

«S^?nn  « '^^  house-parties,  t^a.,  miuiauSu  and  i 

ceptions  on  a  lavish  tcale.  —-"i^m**,  ooa  vo* 

he^'SSl'i^  n"!!^'  met  either  her  or  her  husband  until 
lie  was  weU  launched  on  his  street-car  profframme  nIHS 

In  the  case  of  Hand,  though  the  latter  wm  «IliJi5t 
unfavorablTrumor,  •   r'  »  """her  of 


UNTOWARD  DISCLOSURES 

"Loaded  up  with  other  dungs  just  aour,"  ndkd  Cowper* 
wood,  ingratiatingly. 

"Well,  if  I  can  bdieve  all  the  papers  sav,  you're  going 
to  wreck  these  roads  or  Chicago  or  yourself;  but  I  don't 
live  by  the  oapers.   How  long  would  you  want  it  for?" 

"Six  montni,  periiapt.  A  year,  if  3rou  dioow." 

Hand  turned  over  the  securities,  eying  their  gold  seals. 
"Five  hundred  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  six  per  cent. 
West  Chicago  preferred,"  he  comnented.  '*Aie  you  cmK 
ing  six  per  cent.?" 

'We're  earning  eight  rieht  now.  You'll  live  to  see  the 
day  when  diese  uiares  will  sell  at  two  hundred  ddlars  and 
pai^  twelve  per  cent,  at  that." 

'And  you've  quadrupled  the  issue  of  the  old  company? 
Well,  Chicago's  growing.  Leave  them  here  until  to-morrow 
or  bring  them  back.   Send  over  or  call  me,  and  I'll  teU  you." 

They  talked  for  a  little  while  on  street-railway  and  cor> 
poration  matters.  Hand  wanted  to  know  something  oon> 
ceming  West  Chicago  land — a  region  adjoining  RjiYcns- 
wood.   Cowperwood  gave  him  hisoest  advice. 

The  next  day  he  'phoned,  and  the  stocks,  so  Hand  in- 
formed him,  were  available.  He  would  send  a  check  over. 
So  ^iis  a  tentative  frioidship  began,  and  it  lasted  undl 
OM  idadonship  between  Cowperwood  and  Mis.  Haini 
was  consummated  and  discovered. 

In  Caroline  Barrett,  as  she  occasionally  preferred  to  sign 
herself,  Cowperwood  encountered  a  woman  who  was  as 
restless  and  hckle  as  himself,  but  not  so  shrewd.  Socially 
ambitious,  she  was  anything  but  socially  amventionaf, 
and  she  did  not  care  for  Hand.  Once  married,  she  had 
fi!?""^  .^O-i^pay  herself  in  part  by  a  very  gay  existence. 
Tne  affair  between  her  and  Cowperwood  had  begun  at  a 
dinner  at  the  magnificent  residence  of  Hand  on  the  North 
Shore  Drive  overlooking  the  lake.  Cowperwood  had  gone 
to  talk  over  with  her  husband  various  Chicago  matters. 
Mrs.,  Hand  was  excited  by  his  risque  reputation.  A  little 
woman  in  stature,  with  intensely  white  teeth,  red  Ups 
which  slw  did  not  hmtate  to  rouee  on  occanon,  brown 
hair,  and  small  b:x}wn  eys  which  had  a  gay,  searching, 
defiant  twinkle  in  them,  she  did  her  best  to  be  interesting, 
clem,  witty,  and  she  was. 

263 


THE  TITAN 

"I  know  Frank  Cowperwood  by  reputation,  anyhcwr.** 
•he  exclaimed  holding  out  a  small,  white,  jeweled  hMjL 
nails  of  which  at  their  juncture  with  the  flesh  werTtS^Md 
with  henna,  and  the  oalms  of  which  were  slightly  rouged 
Her  eyes  blazed  and  fier  teeth  gleamed.  "One  cii  Si 
ly  read  of  anything  else  in  the  Chicago  papers." 

Lowpenvood  returned  his  most  winning  beam.  "I'm 
But'l  "u^?.^-    ^  read  of 

"And  if  I  did  it  wouldn't  hurt  you  in  my  ettiinattoii 
To  do  18  to  be  talked  about  in  these  days." 

Lowperr^ood,  because  of  his  desire  to  employ  the  services 
of  Hand^  was  at  his  best.  He  kept  the  conversation^hS 
conventK«ial  hnes;  but  all  the  while  he  was  exch^S^ 

aro'nce"hf/''^'^  T'fe'  "1*5!  ^P"  Hand,  wh<4,  he  „XJ 
at  once  had  married  Hand  for  his  money,  and  was  bemt 

under  a  somewhat  jealous  espionage,  to  have  a  ^  time 

wno  are  watched  and  wish  to  escape  that  g  ves  them  a  eav 
electric  awareness  and  sparkle  in  the  presence  of  an  oo^S 
tunity  for  release,    Mrs.  Hand  had  tW    SwpemoST  a 

hf^r^^'j     u^^"?  After  some  contemplation 

do  an'd  th.?  h '^r/L^^'"^  .^^"^^  Mrs.  HaXSSd 

?       ^'^"S  ^  interested  if  she  were  very  much 
i?^  .  1    '"t""-   Her  telling  eyes  and  smiles,  the  Wght- 

Aieeting  him  on  the  street  one  day  not  lone  after  thev 
had  first  met,  she  told  him  that  she  was  gl|  for  a  '^Z 
to  ftiends  at  Oconomowoc,  in  Wisconsin. 

mi.r  A^V  'iiPPu'*"  yp V^ef  g«  up  that  far  north  in  sum- 
mer,  do  you  ?  she  asked,  w^tE  an  air,  and  smiled. 

I  '^P''^*^'  "^"^  no  telling  what 

I^might  do  If  I  were  bantered,    i  .appose  you  riL  l^ 

;'0h  yes;  and  play  tennis  and  golf,  too." 
^  But  where  would  a  mere  idler  like  me  stay?" 
Oh,  there  are  several  good  hotels.   There^s  never  anv 

After  a  fashion,  replied  Cowperwood,  whb  was  an  expert. 

264  — 


UNTOWARD  DISCLOSURES 

Witness  then  the  casual  encounter  on  horseback,  early 
one  Sunday  morning  in  the  painted  hills  of  Wisconsin,  of 
Frank  Algernon  Cowperwood  and  Caroline  Hand.  A 
jaunty,  racing  canter,  side  by  nde;  idle  talk  concerning 
people,  scenery,  ccmveniences;  his  usual  direct  suggestions 
and  love-making,  and  then,  subsequently — 

The  day  of  reckoning,  if  such  it  mi^t  be  called,  came 
later. 

Caroline  Hand  was,  perhaps,  unduly  reckless.    She  ad- 
mired Cowperwood  greatly  without  really  loving  him.  He 
found  her  mteresting,  principally  because  she  was  young, 
debonair,  sufficient — a  new  type.    They  met  in  Chicago 
after  a  time  instead  of  in  Wisconsin,  then  in  Detroit  (where 
she  had  friends),  then  in  Rockford,  where  a  sister  had  gone  to 
live.    It  was  easy  for  him  with  his  tirr.e  and  means.  Final- 
ly, Duane  Kin^sland,  wholesale  flour  merchant,  reliraous, 
moral,  omventtonal,  who  knew  Cowpeiwood  aiid  his  re- 
pute, encountered  Mrs.  Hann  ai)    Cowperwood  first  near 
Oconomowoc  one  summer's  day,  and  later  in  Randolph 
Street,  near  Cowperwood's  bticl.elor  rooms.    Being  the 
man  that  he  was,  and  knovnng  old  Hand  well,  he  thought 
it  was  his  duty  to  ask  the  latter  if  his  wife  knew  Cowper- 
wood intimately.    There  was  an  explosion  in  the  Hand 
honie.    Mrs.  Hand,  when  confronted  by  her  husband, 
denied,  of  cou.  e,  that  there  was  anything  wrong  between 
her  and  Cowperwood.   Her  elderly  husband,  fnmi  a  cer- 
tain telltale  excitement  and  resentment  in  her  manner, 
did  not  bdieve  this.   He  thought  once  of  confronting  Cow- 
perwood; but,  being  heavy  and  practical,  he  finally  decided 
to  sever  all  business  relationships  with  him  and  fight  him 
in  other  wasrs.   Mre.  Hand  was  watched  very  closely,  and 
a  suborned  maid  discovered  an  old  note  she  had  written 
to  Cowperwood.   An  attempt  to  persuade  her  to  leave  for 
Europe — as  old  Butler  had  once  attempted  to  send  Aileen 
years  before— raised  a  storm  of  protest,  hut  she  .  cnt. 
Hand,  from  being  neutral  if  not  friendly,  became  quite  the 
most  dangerous  and  forceful  of  all  O>v.  perwood's  Chicago 
enemies.    He  was  a  powerful  man.    His  wath  was  bound- 
less.   He  looked  upon  Cowperwood  now  as  a  dark  and 
dangerout  man— one  of  whom  Chicago  would  be  well  cid. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 
A  fopm  Piumr 


P  lonely  by  Ccmperwood,  however,  no  two  indtvidu«!i 

^  K.'n.  M  "Ir-K^f"*  ^        attentions  than  T?yIor  "rd 

-    Kent  McKibben.   Both  were  fond  of  her  in  a 

way,  finding  her  interesting  phyricaUy  and  temnii^SS? 

^.I^oXf         arcumspect  in  their  attitudi  toward 

knSw'^tharXL'*""::;5i'^°''    y^"  ^^^^  they 

u.Ill'?!.'  F*"°**        Aifcen  came  grad- 

form  of  mid-worid  hfe  that  wat  m>t  utterly  dull  In  everv 
SSf.?'^         !?  '  half  wo?ld,  where  aS 

Sd  JSTtK^f ?or  r  °if    'T^^y  un™!" 

»a  restless  meet  tor  an  exchange  of  thinirs  which  cannot- 
Wrtd  of  Bohtmia    Hither  rooR  those  "accidental"  of 

Khees  Gner,  for  instance,  a  pure  y  parlor  artist  with  al 
the  airs,  conventions,  and  social  adaMabilitv  of  thTtrJh^ 
had  quite  a  fo  lowing.  Here  and  to  sE^l  placS  bS 
bSrh%^k]i°;a'nM-^"'  McKibP?o„»';S'ee'2^ 
when  ^°  be  d^l  her 

Among  the  friends  of  these  two  at  this  time  was  a  certain 

^  S:tn:^Z^^  society  W  whi^'S 
ownea  an  immeiiae  reaper  works,  and  wSow  time  was  spent 

266 


A  SUPPER  PARTY 

in  idling,  racing  gambling,  aocializiiig— anything,  in  short, 
that  It  came  mto  hit  head  to  do.   He  was  tall,  dark, 
athletic,  straight,  muscular,  with  a  small  dark  mustache, 
dark,  black-brown  eyes,  kinky  black  hair,  and  a  fine,  ahnost 
mihtary  camage-^which  he  clothed  always  to  the  best 
advantage.    A  clever  philanderer,  it  was  quite  his  pride 
that  he  did  not  boast  of  his  conquests.   One  look  at  hfan, 
however,  by  the  initiated,  and  the  stonr  was  told.  Aiken 
first  saw  him  on  a  visit  to  the  studio  ot  Rhees  Grier.  Being 
introduced  to  him  very  casuallv  on  this  occasicm,  the  was 
nevertheless  deariy  conscious  that  sIm  was  encounteriiv  a 
fascinating  man,  and  that  he  was  fixing  her  with  a  warm,  avid 
eye.    For  the  moment  she  recoiled  from  him  as  being  a  little 
too  braaoi  in  his  stare,  and  yet  she  adbnind  the  general 
appearance  of  him.    He  was  of  that  smart  world  that  she 
admired  so  much,  and  from  which  now  apparently  she  was 
hopelessly  debarred.  That  trig,  bold  air  of  hit  leafoed 
for  her  at  last  the  type  of  man,  outside  of  Cowperwood, 
whom  she  would  prefer  within  limits  to  admire  her.  If 
she  were  going  to  be  "bad,"  as  she  would  have  phmed  it 
to  herself;  she  would  be  "bad"  with  a  man  such  as  he. 
He  would  be  winsome  and  coaxing,  but  at  the  same  time 
strong,  direct,  deliciously  brutaK  like  her  Frank.    He  had, 
too,  what  Cowperwood  could  not  have,  a  certain  social  air 
or  swagcer  whidi  came  with  idleness,  much  loafing,  a  sense 
of  social  superioritv  and  security— a  devil-may-care  in- 
«>^wnce  which  recks  little  of  other  people's  will  or  whims. 

When  STO  next  saw  him,  which  was  several  weeks  later 
at  an  afl'air  of  the  CounaDey  Tabon,  frieadt  of  hot^B,  he 
exclaimed: 

*'0h  yes.  By  George!  You're  the  Mr».  Cowperwood  I 
met  several  weeks  ago  at  Rhees  Grier's  studio.  I've  not 
forgotten  you.  I've  seen  you  in  my  eye  all  over  Chicago, 
iaylor  Lord  introduced  me  to  you.  Say,  but  you're  a 
beautiful  woman  1" 

He  leaned  ingratiatinriy,  whimsically,  admiringly  near. 

Aileen  realized  that  for  so  early  in  the  afternoon,  and 
considenng  the  crowd,  he  was  curiously  enthusiastic.  The 
^^u  T*'  because  of  some  rounds  he  had  made  else- 
where he  was  verging  toward  too  much  liquor.  His  eye 
was  atifbt,  hit  color  coppery,  his  air  mwua, 

267 


wciooorr  msouition  tist  oumt 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


^  /1PPLIED  INA^GE  Inc 

•SSr.  1653  East  M-i  "  SI'eel 

BVS  Ru^he^.tef.  UG09  US* 

'>^B  (7161  "iBS     O'J.li  Phor.t 


THE  TITAN 

care,  bacchanal.  This  made  her  a  little  cautious;  but  she 
rather  liked  his  brown,  hard  face,  handsome  mouth,  and 
cnsp  Jovian  curls.  His  compliment  was  not  utterly  im- 
**'?'??;jn^V^J  nevertheless  attempted  coyly  to  avoidf  him. 

yome,  Po  k,  here  s  an  old  fnend  of  yours  over  here— 
badie  Boutwell— she  wants  to  meet  you  again,"  some  one 
observed,  catchmg  him  by  the  arm. 

No,  you  don't,"  he  exclaimed,  genially,  and  yet  at  the 
same  time  a  httle  resentfullv-the  kind  of  disjdnted  re- 
sentment  a  man  who  has  had  the  least  bit  too  much  is  apt 
to  feel  on  being  interrupted.    "I'm  not  going  to  walk  all 

^Iv  JE*Ki^^°  •^'."^•"S  of  a  woman  I've  seeS  somewhere 
only  to  be  earned  away  the  first  time  I  do  meet  her.  I'm 
going  to  talk  to  her  first." 

Aileen  laughed.  "It's  charming  of  you,  but  we  can 
meet  again,  perhaps.  Besides,  there's  some  one  here"- 
Lord  was  tactfully  directing  her  attention  to  another 
woman.  Rhees  Gner  and  McKibben,  who  were  prese" 
also,  came  to  her  assistance.  In  the  hubbub  that  ensued 
Aileen  was  temporanly  extricated  and  Lynde  tactfully 
steered  out  of  her  way.  But  thev  had  me?  again,  and  ft 
m'itSS  *>^/he  last  time  Subsequent  tolhS' second 
T^  A^'a  Jiu  o^^'  quite  calmly, 

and  decided  that  he  must  make  a  definite  effort  to  he- 
come  more  mtimate  with  Aileen.   Though  she  was  not 

« «flf  ^"^^  "^^t'^i  Present  mood 

Snr    <?K       ""^^  rich  physically-voluptuous  and  sen- 
««  I'^^'  f"*''/      "^^'^^  precisely.,  but  what  of  it? 
^"'^  ^'^^  °(  ^"  eminent  financier,  who  had  been 
H.^r^  u""'*  '^J  ^^"f'f        ^  dramatic  reS 

Ir  wnnM  k''     't"'        «>"W  ^in  he.  if  he  wanted  to 

he  did^lte'r.""""^         ^  ^« 

jh  "SS  '^"i!L'''^^^'';,^y"*'^  ventured  to  invite  her,  with 
vnnn-  ^•',^^^^"s  ^/'./"^  Mrs.  Rhees  Grier.  znd  z 
young  girl  (nend  of  Mrs.  Grier  who  was  rather  at- 
tractive,  a  Miss  Chiystobel  Lanman,  to  a  theater  and 
supper  party.  The  programme  was  to  hear  a  reigning  farce 
at  Hooley's,  then  to  sup  at  the  Richelieu,  and  finally  to 
rXd"n«".t"  f  ^'"sive  gambling-parlor  which  then  ^ir- 
ishcd  on  the  South  Side— the  resort  of  actors,  society 


A  SUPPER  PARTY 

gamblers,  and  the  like— where  roulette,  trente-et-quarante, 
baccarat,  and  the  honest  game  of  poker,  to  say  nothinc 
of  various  other  games  of  chance,  could  be  played  amid 
exceedmgly  recherche  surroundings. 

.  ^t®  ?^!^^  ^^y*  especially  after  the  adjournment  to 
the  Richelieu,  where  special  dishes  of  chicken,  lobster,  and 
a  bucket  of  champaene  were  served.  Later  at  the  Alcott 
Uub,  as  the  gambhng  resort  was  known,  Aileen,  ac- 
cording to  Lynde,  was  to  be  taught  to  play  baccarat, 
poker,  and  any  other  game  that  she  wished.  "You  follow 
my  advice,  Mrs.  G)wperwood,"  he  observed,  cheerfully, 

TaW?uu  «  hJ""^  P"'  between  hiiB. 
self  and  McKibben— "and  I'll  show  you  how  to  get  your 
money  back  anyhow.  That's  more  than  some  others  can 
do,  he  added,  spiritedly,  recalling  by  a  look  a  recent 
occasion  when  he  and  McKibben,  being  out  with  friends,  the 
latter  had  advued  h1»erallv  and  had  seen  his  advice  go  wrong. 

Have  you  been  gambling,  Kent?"  asked  Aileen,  arch- 
^'..xV™'t"^  to  her  long-time  social  mentor  and  friend. 

No,  I  can  honestly  say  I  haven't,"  replied  McKibben, 
with  a  bland  smile.  I  may  have  thought  I  was  gambling, 
but  I  admit  I  don't  know  how.  Now  Polk,  here,  wins  ;Ul 
the  time,  don't  you,  Polk  ?   Just  follow  him." 

A  wry  smile  spread  over  Lynde's  face  at  this,  for  it  was 
on  record  in  certain  circles  that  he  had  losv  as  much  as 
ten  and  even  fifteen  thousand  in  an  evening.  He  alto  had 
a  record  of  winning  twenty-five  thousand  once  at  baccarat 
at  an  all-night  and  all-day  sitting,  and  then  losing  it. 

Lynde  all  through  the  evening  had  been  casting  hard, 
meaning  glances  into  Aileen's  eyes.  She  could  not  avoid 
this,  and  she  did  not  feel  that  she  wanted  to.  He  was 
so  charming.  He  was  talking  to  her  half  the  time  at 
the  theater,  without  apparently  addressing  or  even  seeing 
net.  Ailecn  knew  well  enough  what  was  ip  his  mind.  At 
timet,  quite  as  in  those  days  when  she  had  first  met  Cow- 
perwood,  she  felt  an  unwilled  titillation  in  her  blood. 
Her  eyes  brightened.  It  was  just  possible  that  she  could 
come  to  love  a  man  like  this,  although  it  would  be  hard. 
It  would  serve  Cowperwood  right  for  neglecting  her.  Yet 
even  now  the  shadow  of  Cowperwood  was  over  her,  but 
also  the  detire  for  love  and  a  full  lex  life. 

269 


I 


THE  TITAN 

fJZ^^  gambling^rooms  was  gathered  an  interested  and 
fo^Iy  smart  throng-actors,  actresses,  clubmen,  one  or 

^  I  Z^h^rT'"^  ""T'"  °^  ^'^^  ^"'^^J  ^orfd, 
B«h  S  ^nH  IuTkk'  '"k  8«»*»«™^n»y  young  gamblers 
be«  for  fil?"  1  ^'^^'^^^^^  •'^g^n,  suggesting  column  num- 
^rs  for  first  plays  to  their  proteges,  while  Lynde  leaned 
caressingly  over  Aileen's  powdereS  shoulders.  "Let  me 
put  this  on  quatre  premier  for  you,"  he  suffietted.  thnm! 
uig  down  a  twenty^ollar  gold  piece.  """^^ 
«.»n;7  I '  'I  nKmey,"  complained  Aileen.  "I 
Tl  doJ&^  ^  '^^'^  «^  t»»t  V.  mine 

withKriil "  ^'kk''"'  You  can't  play 

^Vtt  kit  ♦^^^^k'"  crisp  roll  from  her  purse. 

J^rT^  to  exchange  them  later  for  you  for  gold.  You 

you  are.    He  s  done  it.   Wait  a  moment.   You  may  win" 

and  round  above  the  receiving  pockets. 

Premfe*r?"'s1^'w.?r- ^^,,1  ^  ^'^ 

T^n  f«       ^*  '^'UV®  experiences  abroad. 

Ten  for  one,"  replied  Lynde;  "but  yoa  didn't  «r  h 

Let  s  try  it  once  more  for  luck.   It  co^nes  up  eve^  so 

El^'u  ?  7  "       ""ce  the  last  quatre  piemierr 

he  asked  of  a  neighbor  whom  he  recognized.  "^P**"*"^ 
Seven,  I  thinly  Polk.   Six  or  seven.    How's  tricks?" 
to  cS^;f  ^8^'"  'o  Aileen.    "It  ought 

mvTJ«?        "^"-1  ^  '^•^^y*  jnake  it  a  rule  to  double 

tune  or  other.  ^    He  put  down  two  twenties. 

I  hatfo;^\^;entha\/'""*''  ^  ^^^^ 

Aifc'n  Sir."..''?  k""  """^  ^"  P^cements  to  cease,  and 
Aileen  directed  her  attenuon  to  the  ball.  It  circled  and 
arcled  m  its  dizzy  way  and  then  suddenly  dropM 

inakV^Jeieftv-anTr'.f''^  i^^^'r  "Well,  now  we'U 
cT  I  ^ "e  threw  down  four  twenties    "  lust 


270 


A  SUPPER  PARTY 

Aileen  Uked  his  manner.  This  was  like  Frank.  Lynde 
had  the  cool  spirit  of  a  plunger.  His  father,  recoenmne 
his  temperament,  had  set  over  a  large  fixed  sum  to  be  paid 
to  him  annually.  She  recognized,  as  in  Cowperwood,  the 
spmt  of  adventure,  only  working  out  in  another  way. 
Lynde  was  perhaps  destmed  to  come  to  some  jtartlingfy 
reckless  end,  but  what  of  it  ?  He  was  a  gentleman.  His  posi- 
tion m  life  was  secure.  That  had  always  been  Aileen's  sad, 
secret  thought.   Hers  had  not  been  and  might  never  be  now. 

Cm,  I  m  getting  foozled  already,"  she  exclaimed,  gaily 
reverting  to  a  girlhood  habit  of  clapping  her  hands.  "How 
much  will  I  win  if  I  win?"  The  gesture  attracted  atten- 
tion even  as  the  ball  fell. 

"By  George,  you  have  it!"  exclaimed  Lynde,  who  was 
watching  the  croupier.  "Eight  hundred,  two  hundred, 
two  hundred *'-^e  was  counting  to  htmsdf— "but  we  lose 
thirteen.  Very  good,  that  makes  us  nearly  one  thousand 
ahead,  counting  out  what  we  put  down.  Rather  nice  for 
a  beginning,  don't  you  think?  Now,  if  youH  take  my  ad- 
vice you'll  not  play  quatrc  premier  any  more  for  a  while. 
Suppose  you  double  a  thirteen— you  lost  on  that— and 
plav  Bates's  formula.   I'll  show  you  what  that  is." 

Already,  because  he  was  known  to  be  a  plunger,  Lynde 
was  gathering  a  few  spectators  behind  him,  and  Aileen, 
fascinated,  and  not  knowing  these  mysteries  of  chance,  was 
content  to  watch  him.  At  one  stage  of  the  playug  Lynde 
leaned  over  and,  seeing  her  smile,  whispered: 

"What  adorable  hair  and  eyes  you  have!  You  glow  like 
a  great  rose.   You  have  a  radiance  that  is  wonderful." 

Oh,  Mr.  Lyndet  How  you  talk  I  Does  gambling  al- 
ways affect  you  this  way?" 

.  "??*  Always,  apparently!"   And  he  stared 

hard  mto  her  upturned  eyes.  Still  playing  ostensibly  for 
Aileoi's  benefit,  he  now  doubled  the  cash  deposit  on  his 
system,  laying  down  a  thousand  in  sold.  Aileen  urged  him 
to  play  for  himself  and  let  her  watch.  ** I'll  just  put  a  little 
money  on  these  odd  numbers  here  and  there,  MM  you  play 
any  system  you  want.    How  will  that  do?" 

No,  not  at  all,"  he  replied,  feelingly.  "You're  my  luck. 
1  play  with  you.  You  keep  the  gold  for  me,  VU  S^kit 
you  a  fine  present  if  I  win.  The  kmet  are  mine." 

«7i 


THE  TITAN 

'Uust  as  you  like.  I  don't  know  really  enough  about 
%  P«y-   But  I  surely  get  the  nice  present  if  you 

"You  do,  win  or  lose,"  he  murmured.    "And  now  vou 
put  the  money  on  the  numbers  I  call.    Twenty  on  seven. 

I'lfty  on  twenty-four."  He  was  folIow^ng  a  system  of  his 
own,  and  in  obedience  Aileen's  white,  plump  arm  reached 
here  and  there  while  the  spectators  paused,  realizing  that 
heavier  playing  was  bemg  done  by  this  pair  than  by  any 
one  else  Lynde  was  plunging  for  eflFect.  He  lost  a  thoi 
sand  and  fiff  -  dollars  at  one  clip. 

"Oh,  all  tuat  good  money r  exclaimed  Aileen,  mock- 
pathetically,  as  the  croupier  raked  it  in. 

Never  mmd,  we'll  get  it  back,"  exclaimed  Lynde, 
throwing  two  one-thousand^oUar  biUs  to  the  cashier 
Kjvvt  me  gold  for  those." 

The  man  gave  him  a  double  handful,  which  he  put  down 
between  Aileen  s  white  arms. 

"One  hundred  on  two.  One  hundred  on  four.  One 
hundred  on  SIX.   One  hundred  on  eight." 

The  pieces  were  five-dollar  gold  pieces,  and  Aileen  quick- 
ly built  up  the  httle  yellow  stacks  and  shoved  them  in 
place.  Again  the  other  players  stopped  and  began  to 
watch  the  odd  pair.  Aileen's  red-gofd  head,  anS  pink 
cheeks,  and  swimming  eyes,  her  body  swathed  in  silks  and 
nch  lacesj  and  Lynde,  erect,  his  shirt  bosom  snowy  white, 
his  lace  dark,  almost  coppery,  his  eyes  and  hair  black— 

..^i^^'"^  "ri^t'ng'y  assorted  pair. 

What  s  this?   What's  this?"  asked  Grier,  coming  up. 
Who  s  plunging?   You,  Mrs.  Cowperwood?" 

Not  plunging,"  replied  Lynde,  indifferently.  "We're 
merely  working  out  a  formula-Mrs.  Cowperwood  and  L 
We  re  doing  it  together." 

Aileen  smiled.   She  was  in  her  element  at  last.   She  wu 
beginning  to  shine.   She  was  attracting  attention. 

One  hundred  on  twenty-six."  *Hi«w«n 

Lorf  1^1;^  m"''  d'I^'  Lynde?"  exdaimec 

^ran}!      T  ^•"'^  ^^i?*"^  ^hc  followed. 

btrangers  also  were  gathering.   The  busineu  of  the  place 


A  ISUPPER  PARTY 

was  at  its  topmost  toss — it  being  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing—and  the  rooms  were  full. 

'How  interesting!"  observed  Miss  Lanman,  at  the  other 
end  of  the  table,  pausine  in  her  playing  and  staring. 
McKibben,  who  was  beside  her,  also  paused.  "They're 
plunging.  Do  look  at  all  the  money!  Goodness,  isn't 
she  daring-looking— and  he?"  Aileen's  shining  aim  was 
moving  deftly,  showily  about. 

"Look  at  the  bills  he's  breaking!"  Lynde  was  taking 
out  a  thick  layer  of  fresh,  yellow  bills  which  he  was  ex- 
changing  for  gold.  "They  make  a  striking  pair,  don't 
they?" 

The  board  was  now  practically  covered  with  Lynde's 
gold  in  quaint  little  stacks.  He  had  followed  a  system 
called  Mazarin,  which  should  give  him  five  for  one,  and 
possibly  break  the  bank.  Quite  a  crowd  swarmed  about  die 
table,  their  faces  glowing  m  the  artificial  light.  The  ex- 
clamation "plunging!"  "plunging!"  was  to  be  heard  whis- 
pered here  and  there.  Lynde  was  ddiditfttUy  cool  and 
straight.  His  lithe  body  was  quite  erect,  his  eyes  reflective, 
his  teeth  set  over  an  unlighted  cigarette.  Aileen  was  ex- 
cited as  a  child,  deliehted  to  be  once  more  the  c«iter  ot 
comment.  Lord  looked  at  her  with  sympathetic  eyes. 
He  liked  her.  Well,  let  her  be  amused.  It  was  good  for 
her  now  and  then;  but  Lynde  was  a  fotA  to  make  a  tbow 
of  Wmself  and  risk  so  much  money. 

"Table  closed r*  called  the  croupier,  and  instantly  the 
little  ball  began  to  spin.  All  eyes  followed  it.  Round  and 
round  it  went— Aileen  as  keen  an  observer  as  any.  Her 
face  was  flushed,  her  eyes  bright. 

"If  we  lose  this,"  said  Lynde,  "we  will  make  one  more 
bet  double,  and  then  if  we  don't  win  that  we'll  quit."  He 
was  already  out  neariv  three  thousand  dollars. 

"Oh  yes,  indeed!  Only  I  think  we  ought  to  quit  now. 
Here  goes  two  thousand  if  we  don't  win.  Don't  you  think 
that's  quite  enough?  I  havoi't  brought  you  much  luck, 
have  I.?" 

"You  are  luck,"  he  whispered.  "All  the  luck  I  want. 
One  more.  Stand  by  me  for  one  more  try,  will  yaai  If 
we  win  I'll  quit." 

The  little  ball  clicked  even  as  she  nodded,  and  the 

*73 


THE  TITAN 

croupier,  paying  out  on  a  few  small  starts  here  and  there, 
raked  all  the  rest  solemnly  into  the  receiving  orifice,  while 
murmurs  of  sympathetic  dimdsfsction  went  up  heie  and 
there. 

"How  much  did  they  have  on  the  board?"  asked  Mim 
l^anman  of  McKibben,  in  turpriae.  "It  must  have  been  a 
great  deal,  wasn't  it?" 

"Oh,  two  thousand  dollars,  perhaps  That  isn't  so  high 
here,  though.  Peo'  do  plunee  for  as  much  as  eight  or 
ten  thousand.  It  ^epends.'^  McKibben  was  in  a  bc- 
littlme,  depreciat)  .nood. 

u2  not  often,  surely." 

For  the  bye  of  heavens,  Polk!"  exclaimed  Rhees  Grier. 
commg  up  and  pluckmg  at  his  sleeve;  "if  you  want  to  give 
your  money  away  give  it  to  me.  I  can  gather  it  in  just  as 
weU  as  diat  croupier,  and  I'U  go  t  a  truck  and  haul  it 
home,  where  it  will  do  some  goow.  It'a  perfectly  terrible 
the  way  you  are  carrying  on." 

•  .^-yn^^e  took  his  loss  with  equammity.  "Now  to  double 
It,  he  observed,  and  get  all  our  losses  back,  or  go  down- 
stairs and  have  a  rarebit  and  some  champagne.  What 
form  of  a  present  would  please  you  best?— but  never  mind. 
1  know  a  souvenir  for  this  occasion." 

He  smiled  and  bought  more  gold.  Aileen  stacked  it  ur 
showily,  if  a  little  repentantly.  She  did  not  quite  appr  . . 
of  this— his  plunging— and  yet  she  did;  she  could  not  h.l 
sympathizing  with  the  plunging  spirit.  In  a  few  momeu  ^ 
It  was  on  the  board— the  same  combinarion,  the  same  stacks, 
n**7^°'i'r*l?"'^tr**  ^"  The  croupier  called 

S«  5  ••  hundred  dollars  rel 

turned,  the  bank  took  it  all. 

"Well,  now  for  a  rarebit,"  exclaimed  Lynde,  easily, 
turning  to  Lord,  who  stood  behind  him  smiling.  "You 

haven  t  a  match,  have  you?  We've  had  a  nm  of1>ad  luck, 

that  s  sure. 

Lynde  was  secretly  the  least  bit  disgruntled,  for  if  he 
had  won  he  had  intended  to  take  a  porrion  of  the  winning! 

put  It  in  a  necklace  or  some  other  gewgaw  for  Aileen. 
INow  he  must  pay  for  it.  Yet  there  was  some  sarisfacrion 
m  having  made  an  impression  as  a  calm  and  indtiefent. 
though  heavy  loser.   He  gave  Aileen  his 

274 


A  SUPPER  PARTY 

"Well,  my  lady/*  he  observed,  "we  didn't  win;  but  we 
had  a  Uttle  fun  out  of  it,  I  hope?  That  combination,  if  it 
aad  come  out,  would  have  set  us  up  handsomely.  Better 
luck  next  time,  eh  ?" 

He  smiled  genially. 

"i^?**  m"*  ^  ™  your        and  I  wasn't," 

replied  Aileen. 

"You  are  all  the  luck  I  want,  if  you're  willing  to  be. 
.  ™«  Richeheu  to-morrow  with  me  for  lunch- 

will  you? ' 

"Let  me  see,"  replied  Aileen,  who,  observing  his  ready 
and  somewhat  iron  fervor,  was  doubtful.  "  I  cai? t  do  that,^' 
she  said,  finally,  "I  have  another  ei^agemait." 

'How  about  Tuesday,  then?" 

Aileen,  realizing  of  a  sudden  that  she  was  making  much 
of  a  situation  that  ought  to  h  handled  with  a  light  hand, 
answered  readily:  "Very  wel  -Tuesday I  Only  call  me 
up  before.  I  may  have  to  chauge  my  mind  or  the  time." 
And  she  smiled  good-naturedly. 

After  this  Lynde  had  no  opportunity  to  talk  to  Aileen 
pnvatdy;  but  in  saying  good  night  he  ventured  to  press 
u^ifr"™  '"Kgestivelv.  She  suffered  a  peculiar  nervous 
thnll  from  this,  but  decided  curiously  that  she  had  brought 
It  upon  herself  bv  her  eagerness  for  life  and  Kvenge,  and 
must  make  up  her  mind.  Did  she  or  did  she  not  wish  to 
go  on  with  this?  This  was  the  question  uppermost,  and 
she  felt  that  she  must  decide.  However,  as  in  most  such 
cases,  circumstances  were  to  help  decide  for  her,  and,  un- 
questionably, a  portion  of  this  truth  was  in  her  mind  as 
she  was  diowii  gnKantlx  to  her  door  by  Taylor  Lord. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 


MR.  LYNDE  TO  THE  RESCUE 


THE  interested  appearance  of  a  man  like  Polk  Lynde  at 
this  staee  of  Aifeen's  affairs  was  a  bit  of  fortuitous  or 
gratuitous  humor  on  the  part  of  fate,  which  is  involved 
with  that  subconscious  chemistry  of  things  of  which  as  yet 
we  know  nothing.  Here  was  Aileen  brooding  over  her 
tate,  meditating  o/er  her  wrongs,  as  it  were;  and  here  was 
Folk  Lynde,  an  interesting,  forceful  Lothario  of  the  city, 
who  was  perhaps  as  weU  suited  to  her  moods  and  her 
Suld  b"        ^  "  outmdt  of  Cowpeiwood 

In  many  respects  Lynde  was  a  charming  man.   He  was 
comparatively  young— not  more  than  AUeen's  own  aee— 
schooled,  if  not  educated,  at  one  of  the  best  American  col- 
It?"'       «jJfn«        "» the  matter  of  clothes,  friendt ,  and 
the  details  of  living  with  which  he  chose  to  surround  him- 
self, but  at  heart  a  rake.    He  ioved,  and  had  from  his  youth 
up,  to  gamble.   He  was  in  one  phase  of  the  word  a  hard 
and  yet  by  no  means  a  self-destructive  drinker,  for  he  had  an 
iron  constitution  and  could  consume  spirituous  waters  with 
the  minimum  of  ill  dFect.   He  had  what  Gibbon  was  wont 
tocall  themostamiableofourvices."apassionforwomen, 
m.;i5f/'J"^  "u  T'L-^°r  ^¥        patient,  almost  penitent 
methods  by  which  his  father  had  built  up  the  immense 
reaper  business,  of  which  he  was  supposedly  the  heir,  than 
he  cared  for  the  mystenes  or  sacred  rights  of  the  Chaldees. 
We  realized  that  the  business  itself  was  a  splendid  thine. 
He  hked  on  occasion  to  think  of  it  with  all  its  extent  of 
ground-space,  plain  red-brick  buildings,  tall  stacks  and 
yelling  whistles;  but  he  liked  in  no  way  to  have  anything 
lation'^'         ""^      commonplace  routine  of  its  manip^ 

276 


MR.  LYNDE  TO  THE  RESCUE 


The  principal  difficulty  with  Aileen  under  these  cir- 
cumstances, of  course,  was  her  intense  van'tv  and  self- 
consciousness.  Never  was  there  a  vainer  or  more  sex- 
troubled  woman.   Why,  she  asked  herself,  should  she  sit 

here  in  loneliness  day  after  day,  brooding  about  Cowper- 
wood,  eating  her  heart  out,  while  he  was  flitting  about 
gathering  the  sweets  of  Ufe  else^ere?  Why  should  she 
not  oiFer  her  continued  charms  as  a  solace  and  a  delight 
to  other  men  who  would  appreciate  them?  Would  not 
such  a  policy  have  all  the  es^dals  of  justice  in  it?  Yet 
even  now,  so  precious  had  Cowperwood  been  to  her  hitherto, 
and  so  wonderful,  that  she  was  scarcely  able  to  think  of 
serious  disloyalty.  He  was  so  charming  when  he  was  nice 
— so  splendid.  When  Lynde  sought  to  hold  her  to  the 
proposed  luncheon  engagement  she  at  first  declined.  And 
there,  under  slightly  differing  conditi<ms,  the  matter  midbt 
easily  have  stood.  But  it  so  happened  that  just  at  rnis 
time  Aileen  was  being  almost  daily  harassed  by  addidonal 
evidence  and  reminders  of  Cowperwood's  infidelity. 

For  instance,  going  one  day  to  call  on  the  Haguenins — 
for  she  was  perfectly  willing  to  keep  up  the  pretense  of 
amity  in  so  long  as  they  had  not  found  out  the  truth — 
she  was  informed  that  Mrs.  Haguenin  was  "not  at  home." 
Shortly  thereafter  the  Press,  which  had  always  been  favor- 
able to  Gjwperwood,  and  which  Aileen  regularly  read  be- 
cause of  its  friendly  conunent,  suddenly  veered  and  began  to 
attack  him.  There  were  solemn  suggestions  at  first  that  his 
policy  and  intentions  might  not  be  in  accord  with  the  btst 
mterests  of  the  city.  A  little  later  Haguenin  printed  edi- 
torials which  referred  to  Cowperwood  as  "die  wrecker," 
"the  Philadelphia  adventurer,*  "a  conscienceless  promot- 
er,'' and  the  like.  Aileen  guessed  instantly  what  the 
trouble  was,  but  she  was  too  disturbed  as  to  ner  own  posi- 
tion to  make  any  comment.  She  could  not  resolve  the 
threats  and  menaces  of  Cowperwood's  envious  world  any 
mote  than  she  could  see  htt  way  through  her  own  grim 
difficulties. 

One  day,  in  scanning  the  columns  of  that  faithful  chron- 
icle of  Chicago  social  ddngs,  the  Chicago  Saturday  RevietOy 
she  came  across  an  item  which  served  as  a  final  blow. 
"  For  some  time  in  high  social  circles,"  the  paragraph  ran, 

277 


THE  TITAN 

nf^^V'""'*^?  *■      the  amours  and  .liaisons 

of  a  certain  individual  of  great  wealth  and  pseudo  social 
prominence,  who  once  made  a  serious  attempt  to  enter 

^'""Jlftr^^^'  «?wessaiy  to  name  the  man, 

lor  all  who  are  acquainted  with  recent  events  in  Chicaeo 
will  know  who  IS  meant.   The  latest  rumor  to  affect  his 
alrerdy  nefanous  reputation  relates  to  two  women— one  the 
daughter,  and  the  other  the  wife,  of  men  of  repute  and 
L  ml-^i"       community.    In  these  latest  instances  it 
IS  more  than  likely  that  he  has  arrayed  influences  of  the 
greatest  importance  socially  and  financially  against  him- 
selt,  for  the  husband  m  the  one  case  and  the  father  in 
the  other  are  men  of  weight  and  authority.    Fhe  sueires- 
tion  has  more  than  once  been  made  that  Chicago  should 
and  eventually  would  not  tolerate  his  bucaneering  methods 
in  fanance  and  social  matters;  but  thus  far  no  definite 
action  has  been  taken  to  cast  him  out.   The  cro'  line 
wonder  of  all  is  that  the  wife,  who  was  brought  here  from 
the  East,  and  who— so  rumor  has  it— made  a  rather  scan- 
dalous  sacrifice  of  her  own  reputarion  and  another  woman's 
heart  and  home  m  order  to  obtain  the  privilege  of  living 
with  him,  should  continue  so  to  do."    "      ^  » 

father   of  the  so^alled  "one^'  was  probably  Haguenin  or 
Cochrane,  more  than  likely  Haguenrn.    "The  hiTsband  of 
£5         ""i"' ^ho  was  the  husband  of  the  other?  She 
had  not  heard  of  any  scandal  with  the  wife  of  anybody. 
It  could  not  be  the  case  of  Rita  Sohlbergand  herhusSand- 

»lfii7^^  ^'^l^- .      ^^i"  new  affair  of 

^fl  .  the  least  inkline,  and  so  she  sat  and 

reflected.    Now  she  told  herself,  if  she  received  another 
invitation  from  Lynde  she  would  accept  it. 

iJlZ""'  u'^  ^  few  days  later  that  Aileen  and  Lynde  met 
m  the  gold-room  of  the  Richelieu.    Strange  to  relate 
for  one  determmed  to  be  indifferent  she  haJ  spent  much 
time  m_  making  a  fetching  toilet.    It  being  February  and 
rdarHLl  °"  the  ground,  she  had  chosen 

bu«on?^K?.  broadcloth  |:own,  quite  new.  with  lapis-lazuli 
buttons  that  worked  a  '^Y»  pattern  across  her  Eosom,  a 
seal  turban  with  an  emerald  plume  which  complemented 

178 


MR.  LYNDE  TO  THE  RESCUE 

a  sealskin  jacket  with  immense  wrought  silver  buttons,  and 
bronze  shoes.  To  perfect  it  aU^Aileen  had  fastened  lapis- 
lazuli  ear-rings  of  a  small  flower-form  in  her  ears,  and  wore 
a  plain,  heavy  gold  bracelet.  Lynde  came  up  with  a  look 
of  keen  approval  written  on  his  handsome  brown  face. 

"Will  you  let  me  tell  you  how  nice  you  look?"  he  said, 
smking  mto  the  chair  opposite.  "  You  show  beautiful  taste 
7-3  dioosing  the  right  colors.  Your  ear-rings  go  so  ^  V  v,lth 
vour  hair. 

Although  Aileen  feared  because  of  his  despemi  ,  she 
was  caught  by  his  sleek  force— that  air  olF  iron  .ength 
under  a  parlor  mask.  His  long,  brown,  artistic  hands, 
hard  and  muscular,  mdicated  an  idle  force  that  might  be 
used  m  many  ways.  They  harmonized  with  his  teeth  and 
chm. 

"So  you  came,  didn't  you?"  went  on,  looking  at  her 
steadily,  while  she  fronted  his  gaze  boldly  for  a  moment, 
only  to  look  evasively  down. 

He  still  studied  her  carefully,  looking  at  her  chin  and 
mouth  and  piquant  nose.  In  her  colorful  cheeks  and 
strong  arms  and  shoulders,  indicated  by  her  well-tailored 
suit,  he  recognized  the  human  *vigor  he  most  craved  in  a 
woman.  Bv  way  of  diversion  he  ordered  an  old-fashioned 
whisky  cocktail,  uiging  her  to  in  him.  Finding  her 
oMurate,  he  drew  from  his  pocl    a  little  box. 

We  agreed  when  we  clayed  ihe  other  night  on  a  me- 
mento, didn  t  we? '  he  said.    'A  sort  of  souvenir?  Guess?" 

Aileen  looked  at  it  a  I>t!e  nonplussed,  recognizing  the 
contents  of  the  S(  x  to  bt  iewelry.  "Oh,  you  shouldn't 
have  done  that,  iiie  protested.  ''The  understanding  was 
tnat  we  were  to  win.  You  lost,  and  that  ended  the  bar- 
gain. 1  should  have  shared  the  loMet.  I  haven't  ku^vta 
you  for  that  yet,  you  know.** 

"How  uneallant  that  would  make  meP*  he  said,  smiling- 
ly, as  he  trifled  with  the  long,  thin,  lacquered  case.  "You 
wouldn  t  want  to  make  me  ungallant,  would  you  ?  Be  a  good 
tellow— a  good  sport,  as  they  say.   Guess,  and  it's  yours.'* 

pursed  her  hps  at  this  ardent  entreaty. 
I    .VV'  ^  1°?  guessing,"  she  commented,  superior- 

ly,   though  I  sha'n't  takt  it.    It  might  be  a  pin,  it  might 
be  a  set  of  ear-nngs,  tt  might  be  a  bracelet--*' 

279 


THE  TITAN 

He  made  no  comment,  but  opened  it,  revealing  a  neck- 
lace of  gold  wrought  into  the  form  of  a  grape-vine  of  the 
most  cunous  workmanship,  with  a  cluster  of  leaves  artis- 
tically carved  and  arranged  as  a  breastpiece,  the  center  of 
them  formed  by  a  black  opal,  which  shone  with  an  enticing 
luster.  Lynde  knew  well  enough  that  Aileen  was  familiar 
with  many  jewels,  and  that  only  one  of  ornate  construction 
and  value  would  appeal  to  her  sense  of  what  was  becomine 
to  her.  He  watched  her  face  closely  while  she  studied  the 
details  of  the  necklace. 

"Isn't  it  exquisite!"  she  commented.    "What  a  lovely 
opal— what  an  odd  design."    She  went  over  the  separate 
leaves.     You  shouldn't  be  so  foolish.    I  couldn't  take  it 
1  have  too  many  things  as  it  is,  and  besides—"   She  was 
thinking  of  what  she  would  say  if  Cowperwood  chanced  to 

A  A  I  ^ff  "If.  «>  mtuitive. 

And  besides  r  he  queried. 

"Nothing,"  she  replied,  "except  that  I  mustn't  take  it. 
really.  ' 

"Won't  you  take  it  as  a  souvenir  even  if— our  aeree- 
ment,  you  know."  * 

];Even  if  what?"  she  queried. 
Even  if  nothing  else  comes  of  it.   A  memento,  then— 
truly- you  know." 

Me  laid  hold  of  her  fingers  with  his  cool,  vigorous  ones. 

A  year  before,  even  six  months,  Aileen  would  have  released 
her  hand  smilingly.  Now  she  hesitated.  Why  should  the 
be  so  squeamish  with  other  men  when  Cowperwood  was 
so  unkind  to  her? 

jT^'L'"^  something,"  Lynde  asked,  noting  the  doubt 
and  holdine  her  fingers  gently  but  firmly,  "do  you  care  for 
me  at  ailr 

than  ih«  ^        '"^  "  anything  more 

gie  flushed,  though,  in  spite  of  herself. 

He  merely  gazed  at  her  with  his  hard,  burning  eyes. 
Ihe  mat-nahty  that  accompanies  romance  in  so  many 
temperaments  awakened  in  her,  and  quite  put  Cowpe^ 
wood  out  of  her  mind  for  the  moment.  It  was  an  astonish- 
ing and  revolutionary  experience  for  her.  She  quite  burned 
m  reply,  and  Lynde  smiled  sweetly,  encouragingly. 

280 


MR.  LYNDE  TO  THE  RESCUE 

"Why  won't  you  be  friends  with  me,  mv  sweetheart? 
I  know  you're  not  happy — I  can  see  that.  Neidier  am  I. 
I  have  a  wreckless,  wretched  disposition  that  gets  me  into 
all  sorts  of  hell.  I  need  some  one  to  care  for  me.  Why 
won't  you?  You're  just  my  sort.  I  feel  it.  Do  vou  love 
him  so  much" — he  was  referring  to  Cowperwood — ^"that 
you  can't  love  any  one  else?" 

"Oh,  him!"  retorted  Aileen,  irritably,  almost  disloyally. 
"He  doesn't  care  for  me  any  more.  He  wouldn't  mind. 
It  isn't  him." 

"Well,  then,  what  is  it?  Why  won't  you?  Am  I  not 
interesting  enough?  Don't  you  like  me?  Don't  you  feel 
that  I'm  really  suited  to  you?"  His  hand  sought  hers 
softly. 

Aileen  accepted  the  caress. 

*'0h,  it  isn't  that,"  she  replied,  feelinglv,  running  back 
in  her  mind  over  her  long  career  with  Cowperwood,  his 
former  love,  his  keen  protestations.  She  had  expected  to 
make  so  much  out  of  her  Ufe  with  him,  and  here  she  was 
sitting  in  a  public  restaurant  flirting  with  and  extracting 
sympathy  from  a  comparative  stranger.  It  cut  her  to  the 
quick  for  the  moment  and  sealed  her  lips.  Hoc,  unt^dden 
tears  welled  to  her  eyes. 

Lynde  saw  them.  He  was  really  very  sorry  for  her, 
though  her  beauty  made  him  wish  to  take  advantage  of 
her  distress.  "Why  should  you  cry,  dearest?"  he  asked, 
softly,  looking  at  her  flushed  cheeks  and  colorful  eyes. 
"You  have  beauty;  you  are  young;  you're  lovdy.  He's 
not  the  only  man  in  the  world.  Why  should  you  be  faithful 
when  he  isn't  faithful  to  you?  This  Hand  affair  is  all  over 
town.  When  you  meet  some  one  that  really  Knmld  care 
for  you,  why  shouldn't  you?  If  he  doesn't  wamt  you, 
there  are  others." 

At  the  mention  of  the  Hand  affair  AiKen  straightened 
up.  "The  Hand  affair?"  she  asked,  curiously.  "What  it 
that?" 

"Don't  you  knowr  he  replied,  a  little  surprised.  "I 
thought  you  did,  or  I  certainly  wouldn't  have  mentioeed 
It. 

"  Oh,  I  know  about  what  it  is,"  replied  Aileen,  wisely,  and 
with  a  touch  of  sard<mic  humor.  "There  have  ben  m> 

281 


THE  TITAN 

many  of  the  same  kind.  I  suppose  it  must  be  the  case 
the  Chicago  Remnv  was  refernng  to— the  wife  of  thl 
j^^mment  financier.    Has  he  b4n  triflS^  M^u 

T  ^*lf*'r  "^P"^**  Lynde.    "I'm  sorry  that 

lUpoke,  though-really  I  am.    I  dfdn't  mean  to  b%SJ! 

«r»f*^'^«.'1if  fight,  eh  r  taunted  Aileen,  gaily. 

'kT  **'?^'.e'^actly.    Please  don't  be  meaii  I'm 

ouJ  little  f^iblii"        *  We  all  hL^ 

^^'^  she  said, 

^re  have  been  so  many,  though.   She  is  jui 

Tu^H^  T''^*^- .  '^^^^^'f  admired  Cowperwood's  taste. 
Then  he  dropped  the  subject.  Pwwjoa«ia«e. 

But  let's  forget  that,"  he  said.    "Please  don't  worrv 

!  il  j^r^  •   •  . .       squeezed  her  fingers.    "Will  vou?"  he 

w'-,Kr"S.^''«fy^^^°^^  in  inquiry. 
^  Will  I  what?"  replied  Aileen,  meditatively. 

Oh,  you  know.   The  necklace  for  one  thine  Me 
too      H.S  eves  coaxed  and  laughed  and  pleaded  ^'  ' 
Adeen  smifed.    "You're  a  bal  boy,"  she  said,  evasively 
This  revelation  m  regard  to  Mn.  Hand  had  made  her 
ask^±i^r'!f'°'yj'"  "^'^  me  thinL  Don't 

wear  it  anih^^TV''"'°^        I  couldn't.    I  couldn' 
moved  h^r  ^?i        u^^  J"^  time."  She 

r^hed"he?'wri?t.'*""^  "  " 

f^'^^f  ^?"Wn't  like  to  go  around  to  the 

studio  of  a  fnend  of  mine  here  in  the  tower?"  he  askS 
quite  nonchalant^.    "He  has  such  a  chaSg  ?olS 

YnnV  k   kP^^  u*""  "  i-^terwted  in  picture!  I  know 
Your  husband  has  some  of  the  finest." 

by  in^S;   Tfcf".ll!2^f .™  meant-quite 


"Not  this  afternoon."  she  replied,  quite  wrought  up  and 

38s 


MR.  LYNDE  TO  THE  RESCUE 

disturbed.   "Not  to-day.  Another  time.   And  I  miut 
be  going  now.    But  I  will  see  you." 
II And  this?"  he  asked,  picking  up  the  necklace. 
You  keep  it  until  I  do  come,"  she  replied.   "I  may 
take  It  then."  ' 

She  relaxed  a  little,  pleased  that  she  was  getting  safely 
away;  but  her  mood  was  anything  but  antagonistic,  and 
her  spirits  were  as  shredded  as  wmd-whipped  clouds.  It 
was  tmie  she  wanted— a  little  time— that  was  aU. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 


ENTER  HOSMER  HAND 


IT  IS  needless  to  say  that  the  solemn  rage  of  Hand,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  pathetic  anger  of  Haguenin,  coupled  with 
the  wrath  of  Redmond  Purdy,  who  related  to  all  his  sad 
swiy,  and  of  young  MacDonald  and  his  associates  of  the 
[Jhicago  General  Company,  constituted  an  atmosphere 
highly  charged  with  possibilities  and  potent  for  dramatic 
results.  The  most  serious  element  in  this  at  present  was 
nosmer  Hand,  who,  being  exceedingly  wealthy  and  a  director 
m  a  number  of  the  pnncipal  mercantile  and  financial  in- 
stit  tions  of  the  citv,  was  in  a  position  to  do  Cowperwood 
sorne  real  financial  harm.  Hand  had  been  extremely  fond 
of  his  young  wife.  Being  a  man  of  but  few  experiences 
with  women,  it  astonished  and  enraged  him  that  a  man  like 
Umperwood  should  dare  to  venture  on  his  preserves  in 
this  reckless  way,  should  take  his  dignity  so  Ughtly.  He 
burned  now  with  a  hot,  slow  fire  of  revenge. 

Those  who  know  anything  concerning  the  financial  world 
and  Its  great  adventures  know  how  precious  is  that  reputa- 
tion tor  probity,  solidarity,  and  conservatism  on  which  so 
many  of  the  successful  enterprises  of  the  world  are  based. 
It  men  are  not  absolutely  honest  themselves  they  at  least 
wish  for  and  have  faith  in  the  honestv  of  others.  No 
set  of  men  know  more  about  each  ot)ier,  gamer  more 
caretully  all  the  straws  of  rumor  which  may  affect  the 
linancial  and  social  well  being  of  an  individual  one  way 
or  another,  keep  a  tighter  mouth  concerning  their  own 
attairs  and  a  sharper  eye  on  that  of  their  neighbors, 
^-owperwood  s  credit  had  hitherto  been  good  because  it 
was  kno^yn  that  he  had  a  "soft  thing"  in  th-2  Chicago 
street-railway  field,  that  he  paid  his  interest  chances 

284  * 


ENTER  HOSMER  HAND 

promptly,  that  he  had  organized  the  group  of  men  who 
now,  under  him,  controHed  the  Chicago  Trust  Cbmpany 
and  the  North  and  West  Chicago  Street  Railways,  and 
that  the  Lake  City  Bank,  of  which  Addison  was  still 
president,  considered  his  collateral  sound.  Neverthelns, 
even  previous  to  this  time  there  had  been  a  protesting 
element  in  the  shape  of  Schryhart,  Simms,  and  others 
of  considerable  import  in  the  Douglas  Tru     who  had 
lost  n.>  chance  to  say  to  one  and  all  that  Jowperwood 
was  an  interloi)er,  and  that  his  course  was  marked  by 
political  and  social  trickery  and  chicanery,  if l  hy  financial 
dishonesty.   As  a  matter  of  fact,  Schryhart,  who  had  once 
been  a  director  of  the  Lake  City  National  along  with  Hand, 
Ameel,  and  others,  had  resigned  and  withdrawn  all  his 
deposits  sometime  before  because  he  found,  as  he  declared, 
that  Addison  was  favoring  Cowperwood  and  the  Chicago 
Trust  Company  with  loans,  when  there  was  no  need  of  so 
doing— when  it  was  not  essentially  advantageous  for  the 
bank  so  to  do.   BoA  Ameel  and  Hand,  having  at  this 
time  no  personal  quarrel  with  Cowperwood  on  any  score, 
had  considered  this  protest  as  biased.   Addison  had  main- 
tained that  the  loans  were  neither  undu^v  large  nor  out 
of  proportion  to  the  general  loans  of  the  bank.  The 
collateral  offered  was  excellent.    "  I  don't  want  to  quarrel 
with  Schryhart,"  Addiion  had  protested  at  the  time; 
"but  I  am  afraid  his  charee  is  unfair.    He  is  trying  to  vent 
a  private  grudge  through  ihe  Lake  National.   That  is  not 
the  way  nor  this  the  place  to  do  it." 

Both  Hand  and  Ameel,  ;ober  men  both,  agreed  with 
this — admiring  Addison — and  so  the  case  stood.  Schry- 
hart, however,  frequently  intimated  to  them  both  that 
Cowperwood  was  merely  building  up  the  Chicagr  "  ust 
Company  at  the  expense  of  the  Lake  City  Natic  ,  in 
order  to  make  the  former  strong  enough  to  do  without  any 
aid,  at  which  time  Addison  would  resign  and  the  Lake  City 
would  be  allowed  to  shift  for  itself.  Hand  had  never  acted 
on  this  suggestion  but  he  had  thought. 

It  was  not  until  the  incidents  relating  to  Cowperwood 
and  Mrs.  Hand  had  come  to  light  that  things  financial  and 
c  herwise  began  to  darken  up.  Hand,  bei^  greatly  hurt 
m  his  pride,  contemplated  only  severe  repnsu.  Meeting 

28s 


THE  TITAN 

Schryhart  at  a  directors'  meeting  one  day  not  loi%  after 
his  difficultv  had  come  upon  him,  he  rem;  rked: 

"I  thought  a  few  years  ago,  Norman,  when  you  talked 
to  me  about  this  man  Cbwperwood  that  you  were  merely 
jealous—a  dissatisfied  busmess  rival.  Recently  a  few 
things  have  come  to  my  notice  which  cause  me  to  think 
diiferentlv.  It  is  very  plain  to  me  now  that  the  man  is 
thorouehly  bad— from  the  crown  of  his  head  to  .he  soles 
of  his  feet.^  It's  a  pity  the  city  has  to  endure  him." 

So  you  re  just  beginning  to  find  that  out,  are  you, 
Hosmer?'  answered  Sdiiyhart.  "Well,  I'll  not  say  I  told 
you  so.  Perhaps  you'll  agree  with  me  now  that  the  re- 
sponsible people  of  Chicago  ought  to  do  something  about 
it. 

Jfeil^i  ^  heavy,  taciturn  man,  merely  looked  at  him. 
1 II  be  ready  enough  to  do,"  he  said,  "when  I  see  how 
and  what  s  to  be  done." 

A  little  later  Schryhart,  meeting  Duane  Kingsland, 
learned  the  true  source  of  Hand's  feeling  against  Cowper- 
wood,  and  was  not  slow  in  transferring  this  titbit  to  Merrill, 
bimms,  and  others.  Merrill,  who,  though  Cowperwood  had 
refused  to  extend  his  La  Salle  Street  tunnel  loop  about 
btate  Street  and  his  store,  had  hitherto  always  liked  him 
atter  a  fashion— remotely  admired  his  courage  and  daring- 
was  now  appropriately  shocked. 

"Y^Xi  4"*°".'"  .ot>served  Schryhart,  "the  man  is  no 
good.   He  hM  the  heart  of  a  hyena  and  the  friendliness  of 

*  ,T°"  "^^^^  ^^"^     treated  Hand,  didn't  you?" 

;;No/;  replied  Merrill,  "I  didn't."  ^ 
Well,  It's  this  way,  so  I  hear."    And  Schryhart  leaned 
oirer  and  confidentially  communicated  considerable  in- 
tonnation  into  Mr.  Merrill's  left  ear. 

I¥  ]*^f®'"  eyebrows.    "Indeed!"  he  said. 

And  the  way  he  came  to  meet  her,"  added  Schryhart, 
contemptuously,  "was  this.  He  went  to  Hand  originally 
to  borrow  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  on  West 
Chicago  Street  Raih«ray.   Angry?   The  word  is  no  name 

"You  don't  say  so,"  commented  Merrill,  dryly,  though 
pnvately  interested  and  fascinated,  for  Mrs.  Hand  had 
always  seemed  very  attractive  to  him.  "I  don't  wonder." 

286 


ENTER  HOSMER  HAND 

He  recalled  that  his  own  wife  had  rrxently  intitted  on 
inviting  G)wperwood  once. 

Similarly  Hand,  meeting  Ameel  not  so  Imig  afterward, 
coniided  to  him  that  Cowperwood  was  trying  to  repudiate 
a  sacred  agreement.  Ameel  was  erieved  and  surprised. 
It  was  enough  for  him  to  know  that  Hand  had  been  seriously 
injured.  Between  the  two  of  them  they  now  decided  to 
indicate  to  Addison,  as  president  of  the  Lake  City  Bank, 
that  all  relations  with  Cowperwood  and  the  Chicago  Truss 
Company  must  cease.  The  result  of  this  was,  not  long 
after,  that  Addison,  very  sua/e  and  ^dous,  agreed  to 
give  Cowperwood  due  warning  that  all  his  loans  would  have 
to  be  taken  care  of  and  then  resigned — ^to  become,  seven 
months  later,  prendoit  of  the  Chicago  Trust  Company. 
This  desertion  created  a  great  stir  at  the  time,  astonishing 
the  very  men  who  had  suspected  that  it  might  come  to  pass. 
The  papers  were  full  of  it. 

"Well,  let  him  go,"  observed  Ameel  to  Hand,  sourly,  on 
the  da;^  that  Addison  notified  the  board  of  direaors  of  the 
Lake  Citv  of  his  contemplated  resignation.  "If  he  wants 
to  sever  his  connection  with  a  bank  like  this  to  go  with  a 
man  like  that,  it's  liis  own  lookout.  He  may  live  to  reeret 
It.**  ^ 

^  It  so  happened  that  by  now  another  election  was  pending 
in  Chicago,  and  Hand,  along  with  Schiyhart  and  Ameel — 
who  ioined  their  forces  because  of  his  friendship  for  Hand — 
decided  to  try  to  fight  Cowperwood  through  this  means. 

Hosmer  Hand,  feeling  that  h  -  had  the  burden  of  a  great 
duty  upon  him,  was  not  slow  in  a«.ting.  He  was  always, 
when  aroused,  a  determined  and  able  fighter.  Needing  an 
able  lieutenant  in  the  impending  political  conflict,  he 
finally  bethought  himself  of  a  man  who  had  recently 
come  to  figure  somewhat  conspicuously  in  Chicago  politics 
—  one  Patrick  Gilgan,  the  same  Patrick  Gilgan  of 
Cowperwood's  old  Hyde  Park  ga»-war  days.  Mr.  Gilgan 
was  now  a  comparatively  well-to-do  man.  Owing  to 
a  genial  capacity  for  mixing  with  people,  a  close  mouth, 
and  absolutely  no  understanding  of,  and  ccrijequendy 
no  conscience  in  matters  >f  large  public  import  (in  to 
far  as  they  related  to  the  lo-calted  rights  of  the  man), 

a87 


THE  TITAN 

he  was  a  fit  individual  to  succeed  politically.   His  saloon 
was  the  finest  in  all  Wentworth  Avenue.    It  fairly 
elittered  with  the  newly  introduced  incandescent  lamp  re- 
flected m  a  perfect  world  of  beveled  and  faceted  mirrors. 
His  ward,  or  district,  was  full  of  low,  rain-beaten  cottages 
crowded  together  along  half-made  streets;   but  Patrick 
Gilgan  was  now  a  state  senator,  slated  for  Congress  at 
the  next  Congressional  election,  and  a  possible  successor 
of  the  Hon.  John  J.  McKenty  as  dictator  of  the  city, 
.   J^^P"b'»can  party  should  come  into  Dower. 
(Hyde  Park,  before  it  had  been  annexed  to  the  city,  had  al- 
ways been  Republican,  and  since  then,  although  the  larger 
city  was  normally  Democratic,  Gilgan  could  not  con- 
veniently change.)    Hearing  from  the  political  discussion 
which  preceded  the  election  that  Gilgan  was  by  far  the 
most  powerful  politician  on  the  South  Side,  Hand  sent  for 
him.    Personally,  Hand  had  far  less  sympathy  with  the 
polite  morahstic  efforts  of  men  like  Haguenin,  Hyssop,  and 
othere,  who  were  content  to  preach  morality  and  strive  to 
win  by  the  eflForts  of  the  unco  good,  than  he  had  with  the 
cold  pohtical  logic  of  a  man  like  Cowperwood  himself.  If 
Cowperwood  could  work  through  McKenty  to  such  a 
powerful  end,  he.  Hand,  could  find  some  one  else  who  could 
be^made  as  powerful  as  McKenty. 

"Mr.  Gilgan,"  said  Hand,  when  the  Irishman  came  in, 
medium  tall,  beefy,  with  shrewd,  twinkling  gray  eyes  and 
hairv  hands,  "you  don't  know  me—" 

"I  know  of  you  well  enough,"  smiled  the  Irishman,  with  a 
sott  brogue.    You  don't  need  an  introduction  to  talk  to  me." 

Very  good,"  replied  Hand,  extending  his  hand.  "I 
know  of  you,  too.  Then  we  can  talk.  It's  the  political 
situation  here  m  Chicago  I'd  like  to  discuss  with  you.  I'm 
not  a  pohtiaan  myself,  but  I  take  some  interest  in  what's 
going  on.  I  want  to  know  what  you  think  will  be  the 
probable  outcome  of  the  present  situarioa  here  in  the  city." 

Cjilgan,  having  no  reason  for  laying  his  private  political 
convictions  bare  to  any  one  whose  motive  he  did  not  know, 
merely  replied:  "Oh,  I  think  the  Republicans  may  have  a 
pretty  good  show.  They  have  all  but  one  or  two  of  the 
papers  with  them,  I  see.  I  don't  know  much  outside  of 
what  I  read  and  hear  people  talk." 

288 


ENTER  HOSMER  HAND 

Mr.  Hand  knew  that  Gtlgan  wat  tparring,  and  was  glad 
to  find  his  man  canny  and  calculating. 

"  I  haven't  asked  you  to  come  here  just  to  be  talking  over 
politics  in  general,  as  you  may  imagine,  Mr.  Gilgan.  Twant 

to  put  a  particular  problem  before  you.  Do  you  happen 
to  know  either  Mr.  McKenty  or  Mr.  Cowperwood? 

"I  never  met  either  of  them  to  talk  to,"  replied  Gikan. 
"I  know  Mr.  McKenty  by  sight,  and  I've  teen  Mr.  Gaw- 
perwood  once."    He  said  no  more. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Hand,  "suppose  a  group  of  influential 
men  here  in  Chicago  were  to  get  together  and  guarantee 
sufficient  funds  for  a  city-wide  campaign;  now,  if  you  had 
the  complete  support  of  the  newspapers  and  the  Republi- 
can organization  in  the  bargain,  could  you  organize  the 
opposition  here  so  that  the  Democratic  party  could  be 
beaten  this  fall?  I'm  not  talking  about  the  mayor  merely 
and  the  principal  city  officers,  but  the  council,  too— the 
aldermen.  I  want  to  fix  things  so  that  the  McKenty- 
Cowperwood  crowd  couldn't  get  an  alderman  or  a  city 
official  to  sell  out,  once  they  are  elected.  I  want  the  Demo- 
cratic party  beaten  so  thoroughly  that  there  won't  be  any 

3uestion  in  anybody's  mind  as  to  the  fact  that  it  has  been 
one.  There  will  be  plenty  of  money  forthcoming  if  you 
can  prove  to  me,  or,  rather,  to  the  group  of  men  I  am 
thinking  of,  that  the  thing  can  be  done." 

Mr.  Gilean  blinked  his  eyes  solemnly.  He  rubbed  his 
knees,  put^is  thumbs  in  the  armholes  of  his  vest,  took  out 
a  cigar,  lit  it,  and  gazed  poetically  at  the  ceiling.  He  wa» 
thinking  very,  very  hard.  Mr.  Cowperwood  and  Mr. 
McKenty,  as  he  knew,  were  very  powerful  men.  He  had 
always  managed  to  down  the  McKenty  opposition  in  his 
ward,  and  several  others  adiacent  to  it,  and  in  the  Eiditeenth 
Senatorial  District,  which  he  represented.  But  to  be  called 
upon  to  defeat  him  in  Chicago,  that  was  different.  Still, 
the  thought  of  a  large  amount  of  cash  to  be  distributed 
through  him,  and  the  chance  of  wresting  the  city  leadership 
from  McKenty  by  the  aid  of  the  so-called  moral  forces  of  the 
city,  was  very  inspiring.  Mr.  Gilgan  was  a  good  politician. 
He  loved  to  scheme  and  plot  and  make  deals — ^at  mudi  fm 
the  fun  of  it  as  anything  else.  Just  now  he  drew  a  soloBUI 
face,  which,  however,  concealed  a  very  light  heart. 
10  289 


THE  TITAN 

.J'l  "^^^  yo"  have  boat 

up  a  itfong  ofsannation  in  your  ward  and  district." 
1     \Xd  '"*"«8ed  to  hold  me  own,"  suggested  GSkan.  areb- 

a  moment,  now,  that't  a  pretty  large  order.  There  are 
thirty -  one  wards  in  Chicago  tliis  Section,  and  STbu^ 
JiSr™  Ite?  nojn^ally  Democratic.  I  know  most  of 
the  men  that  are  m  them  now,  and  some  of  them  are  pretty 

nobody  s  fool  let  me  tell  you  that.   Then  tliere's  Duvanicki 

He  mS?/?^  Kerrigan-all  good  men." 

tie  mentioned  four  of  the  most  powerful  and  crooked 

are  now  the  Democrats  have  the  offices,  and  the  small 

r^""'-    ^^t'  ti''  '^'^  plenty  of 
workers  to  begm  with.  Then  they  have  the  p^?vileKe 
of  collecting  money  from  those  in"^  office  to  he^r^tS 
"tetS;  J^^'r   ="«her  great  privilege."    He  Liled! 
1  HOT  this  man  Cowperwood  employs  all  of  ten  thousand 

^J^"'*  favorable  to  him 

for  hfm  Th,'?^'  '''''^  1°  ^'"d  find  a  plac" 
tor  him.   That  8  a  gr^-a-eat  help  in  building  up  a  party 

w^T"^:i  ^t'"  '  '"^"•y  «  nian  Tike'^CoSJ^r- 
wh^?.*"**  °u^^  "t?  contribute  at  election  time.Tay 

r"'  t"*,  "'^  ^^'"^        =»nd  five,  and 

ten  dollar  H  ^s  paid  out  at  the  last  moment  over  the  saloon 
bars  «d  at  thej>olHn«.places  that  do  the  work.  Gi"e  m? 
«aiough  money"— an<r  at  this  noble  thought  Mr.  Gilean 
straightened  up  and  slapped  one  fist  lightfy  in  the  oilfer" 
adjusting  at  the  sarne  tune  his  half-bume/  cigar  soThat 
It  shoultfnot  bum  his  hand-"and  I  can  carry  evei^wa?d 

peated,  emphasizing  the  last  two  words.    He  pSt  his  cieaJ 
S  t  S.''  "^"^^  defiantly.^ndleS 
monlv?'  »«nply;  "  but  how  much 

"Ah,  that's  another  question,"  replied  Gilgan.  straieht- 
mrjg  up  once  more.  "Some  wards  requirTmo"  £ 
^ers.  Counting  out  the  eight  that  a«  ilormally  Repub- 
Iican  as  safe,  you  would  have  to  cany  eighteen  otheS  to 


ENTER  HOSMER  HAND 

have  a  majority  in  coui^il.  I  don't  we  bow  anything 
under  ten  to  fifteen  thousand  dollars  to  a  ward  would  be 
safe  to  so  on.  I  should  say  three  hundred  thousand  dollars 
would  be  safer,  and  that  wouldn't  be  any  too  mucb  1^ 

any  means." 

Mr.  Gilgan  restored  his  cigar  and  puffed  heavily  the 
while  he  leaned  back  and  lifted  his  eyes  once  more. 

"And  how  would  that  money  be  distribute  exactly^" 
inquired  Mr.  Hand. 

'Oh,  well,  it's  never  wise  to  look  into  such  matters  too 
closely,"  commented  Mr.  Gilgan,  comforubly.  "There's 
such  a  thing  as  cutting  your  doth  too  dose  in  politics. 
There  are  ward  captains,  leaders,  block  «:aptai;is,  workers. 
They  all  have  to  have  money  to  do  with — to  work  up  senti- 
ment— and  you  can't  be  too  inquiring  as  to  just  how  they 
do  it.  It's  spent  in  saloons,  and  buying  coal  for  mother, 
and  getting  Johnnie  a  new  suit  here  and  tliere.  Then 
there  are  torch-light  processions  and  club-rooms  and  jobs 
to  look  after.  Sure,  there's  plenty  of  places  for  it.  Some 
men  may  have  to  be  brought  into  these  wards  to  live — 
kept  in  boarding-houses  for  a  week  or  ten  dzy."  He 
waved  a  hand  deprecatingly. 

Mr.  Hand,  who  had  never  busied  himself  with  the 
minutiae  of  politics,  opened  his  eyes  slighdy.  ThM  exAo^z- 
»nf  >dea  was  a  little  liberal,  he  thought. 

Who  distributes  this  money?"  he  asked,  finally. 
Nominally,  the  Republican  County  Committee,  if  it's 
in  chatKe;  actually,  the  man  or  men  who  are  leading  the 
heht.  In  the  case  of  the  Democradc  party  it's  John  J. 
McKenty,  and  don't  you  fbiget  it.  In  my  <fis^ct  it's  me* 
and  no  one  else." 

Mr.  Hand,  slow,  solid,  almost  obtuse  at  times,  meditated 
under  lowering  brows.  He  had  always  been  assodated 
with  a  more  or  less  silk-stocking  crew  who  were  unused 
to  the  rough  usage  of  back-room  saloon  politics,  yet  every 
one  suspected  vaguely,  of  course,  at  times  that  ballot- 
boxes  were  stuffed  and  ward  lodging-houses  colonized. 
J.very  one  (at  least  every  one  of  any  woridly  intelligence) 
knew  that  political  capital  was  collected  from  office-seekers, 
oflice-holders,  beneficianes  of  al^sorts  and  conditions  under 
the  reignmg  aty  administration.  Mr.  Hand  had  hinudf 

391 


THE  TITAN 

contributed  to  the  Republican  party  for  favon  received 

*ii      *°        ^*  *  *****        compelled  to 

handle  large  affairs  in  a  laree  way  he  was  not  inclined  to 
quarrel  with  this.   Three  hundred  thousand  dollars  was 
a  large  sum,  and  he  was  not  inclined  to  subscribe  it  alone, 
but  fancied  that  at  his  recommendatko  and  with  his  advice 
It  could  be  raised.   Was  Gilgan  the  man  to  fight  Cowper- 
woodf   He  looked  him  over  and  decided— other  thuics 
being  equal— that  he  was.  And  forthwith  the  bafgain 
struck.   Gilgan,  as  a  Republican  central  committeeman— 
chairman,  possiblv— was  to  visit  every  ward,  connect  up  with 
every  available  Republican  force,  pick  strong,  suitable  anti- 
U>wperwood  candidates,  and  try  to  elect  them,  while  he, 
Hand,  organized  the  money  element  and  collected  the  neces- 
sary cash.    Gilgan  was  to  be  given  money  personally.  He 
was  to  have  the  undivided  if  secret  support  of  all  the  high 
Kepublicaa  elementt  m  the  dty.   Hi8l>usiness  was  to  mn 
at  almost  any  cost.    And  as  a  reward  he  was  to  have  the 
Kepubhcan  support  for  Congress,  or,  failing  that,  the  pxac 
t'cal  Republican  leadership  m  city  and  county. 

Anyhow,"  said  Hand,  after  Mr.  Gilgan  finally  took 
his  departure,  "things  won't  be  so  easy  for  Mr.  Cowper- 
yvood  m  the  fu;ure  as  they  were  in  the  past.  And  mhea 
It  comes  to  getting  his  franchiset  renevved,  if  I'm  alive, 
we  H  see  whether  he  will  or  not." 

The  heavy  financier  actually  growled  a  low  growl  ai  he 
apoke  out  loud  to  himself.  He  felt  a  boundless  rancor  tow- 
ard the  man  who  had,  as  he  supposed,  alienated  the  affec- 
tions <a  his  smart  young  wife. 


4 


CHAPTER  XXXV 
A  fOLRICAL  AauBMBirr 

IN  the  first  and  second  wards  of  Chicago  at  this  time- 
wards  including  the  businew  heart,  South  Qark  Street, 
the  water-front,  the  river-levee,  and  the  like — were  two 
men,  Michael  (alias  Smiling  Mike)  Tieman  and  Patrick 
(alias  Emerald  Pat)  Kerrigan,  who,  for  pkturequenen  of 
character  and  sordidness  of  atmosphere,  could  not  be 

f^-f-  ^KtS*"^!"       ^^'V'     "»       nation  at  Uige. 

bmilmg  Mike  Tieman,  proud  poMenor  of  four  of  the 
laigest  and  filthiest  saloons  of  this  area,  was  a  man  of  large 
and  Mmal  mold  —  perhaps  six  feet  one  inch  in  height, 
broad-shouldered  in  proportion,  with  a  bovine  head,  bullet- 
shaped  from  one  angle,  and  big,  healthy,  hairy  hands  and 
large  feet.  He  had  done  mrny  things  from  digging  in  a 
ditch  to  occupying  a  seat  in  the  dty  counHl  from  hit 
beloved  ward,  which  he  sold  out  regulariy  for  one  purpose 
and  another,  but  his  chief  present  joy  consisted  in  sitting 
behind  a  solid  mahogany  railing  at  a  rosewood  desk  in  the 
back  portion  of  his  largest  Clark  Street  hostelry— "The 
ailyer  Moon.  Here  he  counted  up  the  returns  from  his 
various  properties— saloons,  gambling  resorts,  [and  houMt 
of  prostitution— which  he  manipulated  with  the  connivance 
or  bhnking  courtesy  of  the  present  administration,  and 
listened  to  the  plea*  and  demaadt  of  his  henchraen  and 
tenants.  ""^ 

.  The  character  of  Mr.  Kerrigan,  Mr.  Tieman's  only  rival 
in  this  rather  difficult  and  sordid  region,  was  somewhat  dif- 
ferent. He  was  l  small  man.  auite  dapper,  with  a  lean, 
hollow,  and  somewhat  haggard  fiice,  but  by  no  means 
sicklv  body,  a  large,  strident  mustache,  a  wealth  of  coal- 
black  hair  parted  slickljr  on  one  side,  and  a  shrewd,  genial 
brown-bUck  eye— constitutmg  altofether  a  rather  fkum 

301 


THE  TITAN 


and  ornate  figure  whom  it  was  not  at  all  unsatisfactory  to 

1 1^"  "^^""^  ^^"^       bat-wise  from  his 

head,  and  his  eyes  gleamed  with  a  smart,  evasive  light, 
m^r?^     l"^'  financially  than  Tieman,  richer,  and  no 
more  ^han  thirty-five,  whereas  Mr.  Tieman  was  forty-five 
years  of  age.   t,kc  Mr.  Tieman  in  the  first  wardf  Mr! 
Kerrigan  was  a  power  m  the  second,  and  controlled  a  most 
useful  and  dangerous  floating  vote.    His  saloons  harbored 
the  largest  floating  element  that  was  to  be  found  in  the 
city— longshoremen,  railroad  hands,  stevedores,  tramps, 
thugs,  thieves,  pimps,  rounders,  detectives,  and  the  like 
He  was  very  yam,  considered  himself  handsome,  a  "killer'* 
"  f  Married  and  with  two  children  and  a 
sedate  young  wife,  he  sti  1  had  his  mistress,  who  changed 
from  year  to  year,  and  his  intermediate  girls.    His  clothes 
were  altogether  noteworthy,  but  it  was  his  pride  to  esXw 
jewelry,  Mccept  for  one  enormous  emerald,  value  fourteen 

Inrthe  won^'"'  t't  'I*  '^^"^         "^^^^^'^  °" 

InA        V  l^'f^*  pervading  all  Dearbom  Street 

and  the  city  council,  had  won  him  the  soubriquet  of  "  Emer- 

didi^V^nl/'  5'?      'T'i  ^""''7  *«le,  as  he 

K™™^?  n»e<»aJ  awarded  him  by  a  Chicago 

rsT^^  f*""  '"8^5^  ""inber  of  barrels  of  beer 

h  J^J  K "^^"'•y'  newspapers 
^n7  lfr^T^  *°  pay  humorous  attention  to  both  himself 
and  Mr.  Tieman,  because  of  their  prosperity  and  in- 
dividuahty,  he  resented  it.  ^  ^ 

c!  Ji?  f^*"®  ^°        to       present  political 

s  tut?t"hrw  P."^"''"'.'*"!'  turned  out,  was  to  con- 
nill  ^""^  'P?V"  Cowperwood-McKenty  cam- 
C  :^aI''^'T  ''"'^  Kerngan,  tol»in  with,  being  neigh- 
bors and  /nends,  worked  together  in  politics  and  business, 

fzv^^'^TU    P^''"?  V^?"."  ^"^  each  othe; 

I  J  ["f  enterprises  in  which  they  were  engaged  beine 
low  and  shabby,  they  needed  counsel  Ind  consolation.  In? 
?""t^,'^^""th  a  f?an  like  McKenty  in  understanding  and 
L^^S  .  grasp  of  life  they  were,  nevertheless,  as  they  pro" 
pered,  somewhat  jealous  of  him  and  his  high  estate  they 
T^Ul'^  ?Pecuative  and  somewhat  jealous  eyes  how^ 
^  \o  ^  iP'^  Cowperwood,  he  grei  and  how  ho  man! 
«ied  to  yiwk  hu  wiU  m  many  wayi— by  extncdng  tolls 

294 


A  POLITICAL  AGREEMENT 

fiMn  the  police  department,  and  heavy  annual  campaign 
contributions  from  manufacturers  favored  by  the  city  gas 
and  water  departments.  McKenty — a  bom  manipulator  in 
this  respect— knew  where  political  funds  were  to  be  had  in 
an  hour  of  emergency,  and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  demand 
them.  Tiernan  and  Kerrigan  had  always  been  fairiy 
treated  by  him  as  politics  go;  but  they  had  never  as  yet 
been  included  in  his  "nner  council  of  plotters.  When  he 
was  down-town  on  one  errand  or  another,  he  stopped  in 
at  their  places  to  shake  hands  with  them,  to  inquire  after 
busmess,  to  ask  if  there  was  any  favor  he  could  do  them; 
but  never  did  he  stoop  to  ask  a  favor  of  them  or  personally 
to  promise  any  form  of  reward.  That  was  the  business  of 
Dowhng  and  others  through  whom  he  worked. 

Naturally  men  of  strong,  restive,  animal  disposition, 
fandmg  no  complete  outlet  for  all  their  growing  capacity, 
Heman  and  Kerrigan  were  both  curious  to  see  in  what 
way  they  could  add  to  their  honors  and  emoluments. 
1  heir  wards,  more  than  any  in  the  city,  were  increasing 
m  what  might  be  called  a  vote-piling  capacity,  the  honest, 
legitimate  vote  rot  being  so  large,  but  the  opportunities 
altorded  for  colonizing,  repeating,  and  ballot-box  stuffing 
being  immense.  In  a  doubtful  mayoralty  campaign  the 
""t  and  second  wards  alone,  coupled  with  a  portion  of  the 
third  adjoining  them,  would  register  sufficient  illegitimate 
votes  (after  voting-hours,  if  necessary)  to  completely  change 
the  complexion  of  the  city  as  to  the  general  officers  nomi- 
nated. Large  amounts  of  money  were  sent  to  Tiernan  and 
Kerrigan  around  election  time  by  the  Democratic  County 
U)mmittee  to  be  disposed  of  as  they  saw  fit.  They  merely 
sent  in  a  rough  estimate  of  how  much  they  would  need, 
and  always  received  a  little  more  than  they  asked  for. 
Ihey  never  made  nor  were  asked  to  make  accounting 
atterward.  Tiernan  would  receive  as  high  as  fifteen  and 
eighteen,  Kerrigan  sometimes  as  much  as  twenty  to  twenty- 
hve  thousand  dollars,  his  being  the  pivotal  ward  under 
such  circumstances. 

McKenty  had  recently  begun  to  recognize  that  these 
two  men  would  soon  have  to  be  given  fuller  consid- 
eration, for  the)r  were  becoming  more  or  less  influential, 
out  howf  Their  penonalities,  let  alone  the  reputadoa 

295 


THE  TITAN 


of  their  wards  and  the  methods  they  employed,  were 
not  such  as  to  command  public  confidence.     In  the 
mean  time,  owing  to  the  tremendous  growth  of  the 
city,  the  growth  of  their  own  private  business,  and  the 
amount  of  ballot-box  stufling,  repeating,  and  the  like 
which  was  required  of  them,  they  were  growing  more  and 
more  restless.    Why  should  not  they  be  slated  for  higher 
offices?  they  now  frequently  asked  themselves.  Tieman 
would  have  been  delighted  to  have  been  nominated  for 
sheriff  or  cu  v  treasurer.    He  considered  himself  eminently 
qualified.  Kerrigan  at  the  last  city  convention  had  privately 
urged  on  Dowhng  the  wisdom  of  nominating  him  for  the 
position  o<^  commissioner  of  highways  and  sewers,  which 
otface  he  was  anxious  to  obtain  because  of  its  reported  com- 
mercul  perquisites;  but  this  year,  of  all  times,  owing  to 
the  need  of  nominating  an  unblemished  ticket  to  defeat 
the  sharp  Republican  opposition,  such  a  nomination  was 
not  possible.    It  would  have  drawn  the  fire  of  all  the  re- 
specttble  elements  in  the  citv.   As  a  result  both  Tieman 
and  Kerrigan,  thinking  over  their  services,  past  and  future, 
felt  very  much  disgruntled.   They  were  really  not  large 
enough  mentally  to  understand  how  dangerous— outside 
of  certain  fields  of  activitv— they  were  to  the  party. 

After  his  conference  with  Hand,  Gilgan,  going  about  the 
aty  with  the  promise  of  ready  cash  on  his  lips,  was  able 
to  arouse  considerable  enthusiasm  for  the  Republican  cause. 
I  .J^^r'^s  and  sections  where  the  so-called  "better 
element"  prevailed  it  seemed  probable,  '  ecause  of  the 
heavy  moral  teaching  of  the  newspapers,  that  the  respect- 
able vote  would  array  itself  almost  soUdly  this  time  against 
Cowperwood.  In  the  poorer  wards  it  would  not  be  so 
easy.  True,  it  was  possible,  by  a  sufficient  outlay  of  cash, 
to  hnd  certain  hardy  oucaneers  who  could  be  induced  to 
knife  their  own  brothers,  but  the  result  was  not  certain. 
Having  heard  through  or.e  person  and  another  of  the  dis- 
gruntled mood  of  both  Kerrigan  and  Tieman,  and  lecognijt- 
ing  hiniself,  even  if  he  was  a  Republican,  to  be  a  man  much 
more  of  their  own  stripe  than  either  McKenty  or  Dowling, 
Uilgan  decided  to  visit  that  lusty  pair  and  see  what  could 
be  done  by  way  of  alienating  them  from  the  present  center 
<H  power. 

296 


A  POLITICAL  AGREEMENT 

After  due  reflection  he  first  sought  out  "Emerald  Pat" 
Kerrigan,  whom  he  knew  personally  but  with  whom  he  was 
by  no  means  intimate  polirically,  at  his  "Emporium  Bar' 
in  Dearborn  Street.   This  particular  saloon,  a  feature  of 
political  Chicago  at  this  time,  was  a  large  affair  containmg 
among  other  marvelous  saloon  fixtures  a  circular  bar  of 
cherry  wood  twelve  feet  in  diameter,  which  glowed  as 
a  small  mountain  with  the  customary  plain  and  colored 
glasses,  bottles,  labels,  and  mirrors.    The  floor  was  a 
composition  of  small,  shaded  red-and-green  marbles;  the 
ceiling  a  daub  of  pinky,  fleshy  nudes  floating  among 
diaphanous  clouds;  the  walls  were  alternate  panels  of 
cense  and  brown  set  in  rosewood.    Mr.  Kerrigan,  when 
other  duties  were  not  pressing,  was  usually  to  be  found 
standing  chatting  with  several  friends  and  surveying  the 
wonders  of  his  bar  trade,  whidi  was  very  large.   On  the 
day  of  Mr.  Gilgan's  call  he  was  resplendent  in  a  dark- 
biown  suit  with  a  fine  red  stripe  in  it,  Cordovan  leather 
shoes,  a  wine-cdored  tie  ornamented  with  the  emerald 
of  so  much  renown,  and  a  straw  hat  of  flarins  proporcions 
and  novel  weave.   About  his  waist,  in  lieu  of  a  waistcoat, 
was  fastened  one  of  the  eccentricities  of  the  day,  a  manu- 
factured silk  sash.   He  formed  an  interesting  contrast  with 
Mr.  Gilgan,  who  now  came  up  verv  moist,  pmk,  and  warm, 
in  a  fine,  light  tweed  of  cieainy»  mowy  texture,  straw  hat, 
and  yellow  shoes. 

"How  are  you,  Kerrigan ^'  he  observed,  seniallY,  there 
being  no  political  enmity  between  them.  "How's  the  first, 
and  hows  trade?  I  see  you  haven't  lost  the  emerald 
yet?" 

"No.  No  danger  of  that.  Oh,  trade's  all  right.  And 
so's  the  first.  How's  Mr.  Gilgan?"  Kerrigan  extended 
his  hand  cordially. 

"I  have  a  word  to  lay  to  you.  Have  you  any  dme  to 
spare?" 

For  answer  Mr.  Kerrigan  led  the  way  into  the  back 
room.  Already  he  had  heard  rumors  of  a  Strang  Republi- 
can opposition  at  the  coming  election. 

Mr.  Gilgan  tat  down.  "It's  about  diings  this  fall 
I've  come  to  see  you,  of  course,"  he  began,  smilingly.  "You 
and  I  are  supposed  to  be  on  opposite  sides  of  the  fence, 

^97 


THE  TITAN 

and  we  are  as  a  rule  but  I  am  wondering  whether  we  need 
be  this  time  or  not? 

Mr.  Kerrigan,  shrewd  thoueh  seemingly  simple,  fixed 
him  with  an  amiable  eye.   "Vhat's  youV  scheme?"  he 
««r  „  "i  ^'w^ys  open  to  a  good  idea." 

You  have  a  fine  big  ward  here  that  you  carry  in  your  vest 
pocket,  and  so  has  Tieman,  as  we  all  know;  ard  we  all 
tHZ'  ^'^'.i*',"  wasn't  for  what  you  and  him  can  do 
there  wouldn  t  always  be  a  Democratic  mayor  elected. 
Wow,  I  have  an  idea,  from  looking  into  the  thing,  that 
neither  you  nor  Tiernan  have  got  as  much  out  of  it  so  far 
as  you  might  have." 

•K^^^f"!??  cautious  to  comment  as  to  that, 

though  Mr.  Gilgan  paused  for  a  moment.  ^ 
JNow,  1  have  a  plan,  as  I  say,  and  yoa  can  take  it  or 
XWu  •'""/iy°"  want,  and  no  hard  feelings  one  way  or 
fall  fenlv***"^  the  Republicans  are  going  to  win  ?his 
IflrTc  "°  McKenty-first,  second,  and  third 

wards  with  us  or  not,  as  they  choose.  The  doings  of  the 
bie  fellow  '—he  was  referring  to  McKentv— "with  thl 
otLr  fellow  in  North  Clark  Stfeet"-Mn  Sfgan  prefer  ed 

Snd^is^^ni'"*?""''  ^  very*S.uc'h  in  the 

J^Tni  u  You  see  how  the  papers  Stand.  I  happen 
to  know  where  there's  any  quantity  of  money  coming^iSto 
the  game  from  big  financial  quarters  who  have  no^e  foj 
this  ra  jioad  man.  It's  a  solid  La  Salle  and  Dearborn 
Street  Iine-up,  so  far  as  I  can  see.  Why,  I  don't  know 
that''.°;i:''  Maybe  you  know  better  than^I  do.  Anyh^ 
"  "^'l?'  J?^'^-  *o  t*'"  the  fact  thai 

there  are  eight  naturally  Republican  wards  as  it  is,  and  t« 
more  where  there  is  always  a  fighting  chance,  Lnd  vou 

tTrhlT  "^AU  ^  "1  '^"^T^  "  cSunt  out 'these  H 
tw^.  though,  and  bet  only  on  the  eight  that  are  sure  to  stand. 
That  leaves  twenty-three  wards  that  we  Republicans  al^ 
ways  conceded  to  you  people;  but  if  we  man^  to  ca'n^ 
thirteen  of  them  along  with  the  eight  I'm  talking  fbout,  S 
finaL  council,  and"-flick!  he  snapped  his 

alf         ?  ^^P""'  McKenty.  CovvperwSSd,  and 

""""'^  franchises,  no  more  street-pLving 
contracts,  no  more  gas  deals.   Nothing-for  two  yean^ 


A  POLITICAL  AGREEMENT 

anyhow,  and  maybe  longer.  If  we  win  we'll  take  the  jobt 
and  the  fat  deals."  He  paused  and  surveyed  Kerrigan 
cheerfully  but  defiantly.  . 

"Now,  I've  just  been  all  over  the  city,    he  contmued, 
"in  every  ward  and  precinct,  so  I  know  iomething  of  what 
I  am  talking  about.    I  have  the  men  and  the  cash  to  put 
up  a  fight  all  along  the  line  this  tinie.   This  fall  we  win — 
me  and  the  big  fellows  over  there  in  La  Salle  Street,  and 
all  the  Republicans  or  Democrats  or  Prohibitionists,  or 
whoever  else  comes  in  with  us-;-do  you  get  me?  We're 
going  to  put  up  the  biggest  political  fight  Chicago  has  ever 
seen.   I'm  not  naming  any  names  just  yet,  but  when  the 
time  comes  you'll  see.    Now,  what  I  want  to  ask  of  you 
is  this,  and  I'll  not  mince  me  words  nor  beat  around  the 
bu^.   Will  you  and  Tieman  come  in  with  me  and  Edstrom 
to  take  over  the  city  and  run  it  during  the  next  two  years? 
If  you  will,  we  can  win  hands  down.   It  will  be  a  case  of 
share  and  share  alike  on  everything — police,  gas,  water, 
highways,  street-railways,  everything — or  we'll  divide  be- 
forehand and  put  it  down  in  black  and  white.   I  know  that 
you  and  Tieman  work  together,  or  I  wouldn't  talk  about  this. 
Edstrom  has  the  Swedes  where  he  wants  them,  and  he'll 
poll  twenty  thousand  of  them  this  fall.   TTiere's  Ungerich 
with  his  Germans;  one  of  us  might  make  a  deal  with  him 
afterward,  give  him  most  any  office  he  wants.   If  we 
win  this  time  we  can  hold  the  city  for  six  or  eight  years 
anyhow,  most  likely,  and  after  that  —  well,  there's  no 
use  lookin'  too  far  in  the  future —  Anyhow  we'd  have 
a  majority  of  the  council  and  carry  the  mayor  akuig 
with  it." 

"If — "  commented  Mr.  Kerrigan,  dryly. 

"If,"  replied  Mr.  Gilgan,  sententiously.  "You're  very 
right.  There's  a  big  'if  in  there,  I'll  admit.  But  if  these 
two  wards — yours  and  Tieman's — could  by  any  chance  be 
carried  for  the  RepuUtcrat  they'd  be  eqiiu  to  any  £cmr  or 
five  of  the  others. ' 

"Very  true,"  replied  Mr.  Kerrigan,  "if  they  could  be 
carried  for  the  Republicans.  But  they  ca.i't  be.  What  do 
you  want  me  to  do,  anyhow?  Lose  me  seat  in  council  and 
be  run  out  of  the  Democratic  party?  What's  your  ganie? 
You  don't  take  me  for  «  frfain  damn  fod,  do  your 

«99 


THE  TITAN 

 J  th*  man  ♦ 

answered 


.ilS^S  r-i"*""  "^^l  *T*'  ^"^"^  'Emerald  Pat*  for  that " 
isweted  Gilgan,  with  honeyed  compliment    "  I  VvfvL 
would.    But  no  one  is  aslrin*         ^^^'Mpumeni.      i  nev^ 

and  be  run  out  of  ^he  iJ^^^^df^^^^^  «  ~"«cfl 

If  ♦k-  r»„ "  wnom  it  was  desirable  to  undo 

make  terms  with  Eim    Tk     '^'^  to 

hirr  ^^^^  nTL^yfekltte 

^^'»^ng  over,  to  say  the  IcaUS  ''"^ 

«-«li2!LL  u  observed,  drvlv  after  hi. 

meditatioiis  had  run  their  course-  "K..*  kZ!  j   t  i 

that  you  wouldn't  turn  amuKd  'wdch'  1  thJ 
ment  afterward      rMr  e^-    j  •        f"*  "g***" 

sueeestion  ^   «°n,».  iS    •  irritably  at  the 

toTeIn  bfm  «  *  1  Mornssey  came  to  me  four  years  a» 
to  help  him  out,  and  a  lot  of  satisfaction  I  got  a(te««,3P 

"burit"s"no77rur7f  m'e  "X'L  "^'^^^  <%an  VS?; 

Ask  the  men  whTkSow  me  ril"??t^ 
gain  in  black  and  •KilJ^r      Hi^"*       P*"     the  bar- 
KoSXow'^j'^^^^^^^^  It  I  don't 

people  that  are  hackinS  ml    TMi   u  *°  the 

I've  got  the  g^ds  this  lime  Wha^r  "^^r'^' 
anyhow?   Tifev  rLv  ,  to  lose, 

Aiiyiiuwr    iney  can  t  run  you  out  for  cutting  i-k* 

wiU  «  carry  thi.  "aSd'Z?""''  " 


A  POLITICAL  AGREEMENT 

Mr.  Kerrigan  suddenly  saw  a  grand  coup  here.  He 
could  ''draw  down"  from  the  Democrats,  as  he  would  have 
expressed  it,  twenty  to  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  to  do 
the  dirty  work  here.  Gilgan  would  furnish  him  as  much 
and  more — the  situation  being  so  critical.  Perhaps  fifteen 
or  eighteen  thousand  would  be  necessary  to  poll  the  number 
of  votes  required  either  way.  At  the  last  hour,  before  stuff- 
ing the  boxes,  he  would  learn  how  the  city  was  going.  If 
it  looked  favorable  for  the  Republicans  it  would  be  easy  to 
complete  the  victory  and  complain  that  his  lieutenants  nad 
been  suborned.  If  it  looked  certain  for  the  Democrats  he 
could  throw  Gilgan  and  pocket  his  funds.  In  either  case 
he  would  be  "in"  twenty-five  to  thirty  thousand  (k^rs, 
and  he  would  still  be  councilman. 

"All  very  fine,"  replied  Mr.  Kerrigan,  pretending  a  dull- 
ness which  he  did  not  feel;  "but  it's  danaaed  tickbsh  busi- 
ness at  best.  I  don't  know  that  I  want  anything  to  do 
with  it  even  if  we  could  win.  It's  true  the  Citv  Hall 
crowd  have  never  played  into  my  hands  very  much;  but 
this  is  a  Democratic  district,  and  I'm  a  Democrat.  If  it 
ever  got  out  that  I  had  thrown  the  party  it  would  be  pretty 
near  all  day  with  me." 

"I'm  a  man  of  my  word,"  declared  Mr.  Gilgan,  em- 
phatically, getring  up.  "I  never  threw  a  man  or  a  bet 
m  my  life.  Look  at  me  record  in  the  eighteenth.  I^  you 
ever  near  any  one  say  that  I  had?" 

"No,  I  never  did,"  returned  Kerrigan,  mildly.  "But 
it's  a  pretty  large  thing  you're  proposmg,  Mr.  Gilgan.  I 
wouldn't  want  to  say  what  I  thought  about  it  cmhand. 
This  ward  is  supposed  to  be  DenK)cntic.  It  ccMildn't  be 
swung  over  into  tne  Republican  column  without  a  ^ood  bit 
of  fuss  being  made  about  it.  You'd  better  see  Mr.  Tieman 
first  and  lM»r  what  he  has  to  say.  Afteiwazd  I  mwht  be 
willii»  to  talk  ^bout  it  furth«r.  Not  now,  ihaugar-itat 
now. 

Mr.  Qlgan  went  away  quite  jauntily  aikl  ^eetfolly.  He 
was  not  at  all  downcast. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

AN  ELBCnON  DRAWS  NEA» 

SS^f  ^S^^-?        ^'^^^  ""ed  on  Mr.Tier.an 

in  a  small  hoteHn  MSukee  fS  S"/'  '  P^Io^-room 
together),  conferred.  XaSy  l^e"sr^^^^^^  ^» 
Kemgan,  and  Gilgan  met  and  j  Edstrom, 

of  di^sion  far  too  fntri™  tatVP^^  ^  Programme 
to  say,  it  mvolved  ?hrd?,Srio„  of  "i'^r?  '?"^-  ^^^^J*"* 
police  graft,  of  gLblineTd  h^L?'^  P'^."^"* 
mums  fro^  gal  street  r^n„,„''^"**°"^^  perquisites,  of 
It  was  sealed  Sth  m^y'^S  n^^"*  organizations, 
made  effective  this  "uXmv?ateTi?r*  }^  '  ^ 
Judges,  smaU  magistrates  nffi-  1 
shrievalty,  the  watHfice^A^^^  f,"**  ^"'^'^  ^'^'^ 

within  its  purview.  It  wa?a  fin.  J    j**"^'  ^ome 
and  as  8u?h  worthy  of  ^ter^^^^^A^^^^^^^ 
but  It  was  only  a  political  dnSSI^^    ?  consideration; 
and  as  such  Lp^»td  iil  it»ultimate  aspects, 

times.  ""Prewea  tbe  partiapamt  tfaenudvet  at 

f  u^fh  ^^™Pa»gn  was  now  in  full  blast  Tk- 

(all  (September  and  October)  weni-  k„  }  ''u""""  ^"^ 

Democratic  and  ReoubHcan  ^,7?        l"",  of 

sound  of  lusty  poHtfcal  vd^^^^  "'"^ 

comers,  in  w<J,den  "w  JS'!f^?^^^  P^^'^^'  at  street- 

whcrev^r  a  mVager  hS.l^f  r         '^"^=5'  ^"^  parlors- 

nearly  every  s,re«4omer  in  rk" ^^ounced  from 
fcoj;  CO  W  Wuled^-affi  la&^B^AiX 


AN  ELECTION  DRAWS  NEAR 

partnership  between  the  street-railway  corporations  and 
the  city  council."  "Do  you  want  more  streets  stolen?" 
"Do  you  want  Cowperwdod  to  own  Qiicago?**  Cowper- 
wood  himself,  coming  down-town  of  a  morning  or  driving 
home  of  an  evening,  saw  these  things.  He  saw  the  huge  signs, 
listened  to  speeches  denouncing  himself,  and  smiled.  By 
now  he  was  quite  aware  as  to  whence  this  powerful  uprising 
had  sprung.  Hand  was  back  of  it,  he  knew — for  so  McKenty 
and  Addison  had  quickly  discovered — and  with  Hand  was 
Schryhart,  Ameel,  Merrill,  the  Douglas  Trust  Company, 
the  various  editors,  young  Truman  Leslie  MacDonald,  the 
old  gas  crowd,  the  Chicago  General  Company — all.  He 
even  suspected  that  certain  aldermen  might  possibly  be 
suborned  to  desert  him,  though  all  professed  loyalty. 
McKenty,  Addison,  Videra,  and  nimself  were  plannine  the 
details  of  their  defenses  as  carefully  and  enectively  as 

Eossible.  Cowperwood  was  fully  alive  to  the  fact  that  if 
e  lost  this  election — the  first  to  be  vigorously  contested — 
it  might  involve  a  serious  chain  of  events;  but  he  did  not 
propose  to  be  unduly  disturbed,  since  he  could  always 
tight  in  the  courts  by  money,  and  by  preferment  in  the 
council,  and  with  the  mayor  and  the  city  attorney.  "There 
is  more  than  one  way  to  kill  a  cat,"  was  <mt  of  nit  pec  ex- 
oressions,  and  it  expressed  his  lo^  xod  courafe  exactly. 
Yet  he  did  not  wish  to  lose. 

One  of  the  amusing  features  of  the  campaign  was  diat 
the  McKenty  orators  nad  been  instructed  to  shout  as  loud- 

Sfor  reforms  as  the  Republicans,  only  instead  of  assailing 
Dwperwood  and  McKenty  they  were  to  point  out  that 
Schryhart's  Chicago  City  Railway  was  far  more  rapacious, 
and  that  this  was  a  scheme  to  give  it  a  blanket  franchise  of 
all  streets  not  yet  covered  by  either  the  Cowperwood  or  the 
Schryhart-Hand-Ameel  lines.  It  was  a  pretty  argument. 
The  Democrats  could  point  with  pride  to  a  uniformly 
liberal  interpretation  of  some  trying  Sunday  laws,  where- 
by under  Republican  and  reform  administrations  it  had 
been  occasionally  diiEcult  for  the  honest  working-man  to 
get  his  glass  or  pail  of  beer  on  Sunday.  On  toe  odwr 
hand,  it  was  possible  for  the  Republican  orators  to  show 
how  "the  low  dives  and  ein-mills  '  we-e  evemvhere  being 
operated  in  favor  of  McKenty,  and  ti  t  im^  ha^^ 

303 


THE  TITAN 

respectable  administration  of  the  Republican  candidate 
for  mayor  this  partnership  between  the  city  gpvtm^ 
and  vice  and  crime  would  ^e  nulUfied.        ^  fpytnuamt 

TK-JLr  Q?"  elected,"  dedared  the  Honorable  ChafFee 
Thayer  Sluss,  the  Republican  candidate,  "neither  Fradc 
Cowperwood  nor  John  McKenty  wiU  dztt  to  Sow^ 

an?  ^  ^  he  comet  with  ckSTaiS 

and  an  honest  purpose.**  «■««• 

''Hoorarl"  yelled  the  crowd. 

th.«  .n  Z  r  commented  Addison,  when  he  read 

this  in  the  Transcnpt.   "He  used  to  be  a  clerk  in  the 

r^cen^fv^JS  ^""T^'  ««='\,?»<J«  «  Kttle  money' 
Amril%.?  k'i*'^'  busmess.    He's  a  mere  tool  for  th^ 

When  McKenty  read  it  he  simply  observed:  "There  are 

He  was  depen<ilng  upon  a  councilmanic  mSjori?/at  kast. 

an?Z'nrV?  ^^^^T**"  ^'^J'*".  "P«>"  the  goings^ 
and  fro  of  Gilgan,  Edwrom,  Kerrigan,  and  Tieman  were 

not  fully  grasped.   A  more  urbanely  shift/, a^J  Sa^  these 

latter  were  never  seen.   While  fratcrniziiig-  sccretirwkh 

both  Gilgan  and  Edstrom,  laying  out  their  poS  pro^ 

gramme  most  neatly,  they  were  at  the  same  ti^e  conferS^ 

Dowhng,  Duvamcki,  even  McKenty  himself.  SedJf 

that  the  outcome  wa.,  for  aome  leason^e  could  scarce"? 

^     Sure,  sure!    I  did!"  replied  Mr.  Kerrigan.  Kailv 
Here  it  is  now  in  me  outside  coat  pocket,  ^oiar  Mr' 

?ver"S"£  ""^he  favoT^o  come 

over  to-morrow  evening  at  seven  and  dine  with  me?  Mr 
Uneench,  Mr.  Duvanicki,  and  several  others  ^1  ve^ 

come  ttlh^^^ni"^'  I  ^'^fi  Ti^nian  t^ 
come  at  the  same  tmie.   Sincere  y,  John  T.  McKentv' 

like  that/'  ^y^^  ^"  '^^M.  Keiriglf 'iju^t 
^^kissed  the  letter  mockingly  and  put  it  back  into  his 


304 


AN  ELECTION  DRAWS  NEAR 

"Sure  I  got  one,  jist  the  same  way.  The  very  same 
langwidge,  neariy,'*  commented  Mr.  Tieman,  sweetly. 
"He's  beginning  to  wake  up,  eh?  What!  The  little  old 
first  and  second  are  beginning  to  look  purty  big  just  now, 

eh?  What!" 

"Tush!"  observed  Mr.  Kerrigan  to  Mr.  Tieman,  with  a 
marked  sardonic  emphasis,  "that  combination  won't  last 
forever.  They've  been  getting  too  big  for  their  pants, 
I'm  thinking.  Well,  it's  a  long  road,  eh?  It's  pretty 
near  time,  what?" 

"You're  right,"  responded  Mr.  Tieman,  feelingly.  It 
is  a  long  road.  These  are  the  two  big  wards  of  the  city, 
and  everybody  knows  it.  If  we  turn  on  them  at  the  last 
moment  where  will  they  be,  eh?*' 

He  put  a  fat  fincer  alongside  of  his  heavy  reddish  nose 
and  looked  at  Mr.  Kerrigan  out  of  squinted  eyes. 

"You're  damned  light,"  replied  the  little  politician, 
cheerfully. 

They  went  to  the  dinner  separately,  so  as  not  to  ai>pear 
to  have  cor^erred  before,  and  greeted  each  other  on  arriving 
as  though  the.  had  not  seen  each  other  for  days. 

"How's  business,  Mike?" 

"Oh,  fair,  Pat.   How's  thing*  with  you?" 

"So  so." 

"Things  lookin'  all  right  in  your  ward  for  November?" 

Mr.  Tieman  wrinkled  a  fat  forehead.  "Can't  tell  yet." 
All  this  was  for  he  benefit  of  Mr.  McKenty,  who  did  not 
suspect  rank  paity  disloyalty. 

Nothing  nnuch  came  of  this  conference,  except  that  they 
sat  about  discussing  in  a  general  way  wards,  pluraliries, 
what  Zeigler  was  likely  to  do  with  the  twelfth,  whether 
Pinski  could  make  it  in  the  sixth,  Schlumbohm  in  the 
twentieth,  and  so  on.  New  Republican  contestants  in  old, 
safe  Democratic  wards  were  making  things  look  dubious. 

"  And  how  about  the  first,  Kerrigan  r'  inquired  Un- 
gerich,  a  thin,  reflective  German-Amencan  of  shrewd  pres- 
ence. Ungerich  was  one  who  had  hitherto  wormed  himself 
higher  in  McKenty's  favor  than  either  Kerrigan  or 
Tieman. 

"Oh,  the  first's  all  right,"  replied  Kerrigan,  archly.  "Of 
course  you  never  can  tell.   This  fellow  Scully  may  do  some- 

305 


■'—iHil^i  — — ^-g'—-  --  -  ,  .-.^au  .  .  ■■  


THE  TITAN 

thing,  but  I  don't  think  it  will  Im  mudi  Tf  —  i.  i 
•amepoiire  protection-"  "  ^ 

llmmch  was  eratified.   He  wu  havm»  •>         i  • 

nodding  »^,cLntL    "V^^!l  Jro",  Mifc? 

not  forget  it  -Wrfw?  J™.  •       "*«  <>f  "» 

afterwarf."  *"  """S  '•"''"l  around 

year  but  we  haven't  gn"d  »  '""gh 

Tie^SJcoSf^^g^e^l^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

there  won'rbraSv  doTht  of  C^^Tr'^r"' 
then."   He  wLt  in  and  I  have  any  influence 

October  wbd  TO  whroDinW  ?1  »  <^°<'» 

along  the  pavei^Tnts    Oe??-  "^^^ 

.106 


AN  ELECTION  DRAWS  NEAR 

didn't  think  of  d»t  last  June  iHMn  At  coovMitiott  was  h 

session." 

"Tush!  Mikey,"  smiled  Mr.  Kerrigan,  grimljr.  "You're 
a  bad  little  boy.  You  want  your  pie  coo  soon.  Wait  an- 
other two  or  four  or  fix  yean,  like  raddy  Kerrigan  and  the 
others." 

"Yes,Iwia--iiot^''gN«vkdMr.TieiBaii.  "Wait 'D  the 

sixth." 

"No  more>  will  I,"  mrfied  Mr.  Kent^m.  "Say,  we 
know  a  trick  that  heata  nat  next-year  busmen  to  a  pulp. 

What?" 

"You're  dead  ri^t,"  conunoited  Mr.  Henan. 
And  so  tl^y  went  peacefully  hone. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 
aileen's  revenge 


Tdir'iat       fff  •  ^^i^^'^^  one  morning,  de- 

gia.|d  .ctoo,.  i.  f4uS^  »Ttiif 


308 


AILEEN'S  REVENGE 

From  this  attitude  on  his  part  had  sprung  his  rather  dark 
fame.  ^  felt  it  on  the  day  that  she  took  lunch  with 
hin^  •joicmn,  dark  eyes  were  treacherously  sweet. 

Sh(  hit  as  if  ?ht  might  be  paving  the  way  for  some  situa- 
tkX'  I'n  which  she  would  And  herself  helpless  before  his 
•ud  !i  fv  moci — sad  yet  she  had  come. 

But  Lynde,  meditating  Aileen's  delay,  had  this  day  de- 
cided that  he  should  set  a  definite  decision,  and  that  it 
should  be  favorable.  He  called  her  up  at  ten  in  the  mom- 
ine  and  chafed  her  concerning  her  indecision  and  change- 
able moods.  He  vanted  to  know  M^ether  she  would  not 
come  and  see  the  paintings  at  his  friend's  studio — ^whether 
she  could  not  make  up  her  mind  to  come  to  a  barn-dance 
which  some  bachelor  friends  of  his  had  arranged.  When 
she  pleaded  bejn|  out  of  sorts  he  urged  her  to  pull  herself 
together,^  "You  re  making  things  very  difficult  for  your 
admirers,"  he  suggested,  sweetly. 

Aileen  fancied  she  had  postponed  the  struggle  diplo- 
matically for  some  little  rime  without  ending  it,  when  at 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  her  door-bell  was  rung  and  the 
name  of  Lynde  brought  up.  "  He  said  he  was  sure  you  were 
m,  commented  the  footman,  on  whom  had  been  pressed 
a  dollar,  "and  would  you  see  him  for  just  a  mmnmt? 
He  would  not  keep  you  more  than  a  moment." 

Aileen,  ^ken  off  her  guard  by  this  effrontery,  uncertain 
as  to  whether  there  might  not  be  something  of  some  tl^t 
import  concerning  which  he  wished  to  speak  to  her,  quar- 
reling with  hersdf  because  of  her  indecision,  really  fas- 
cinated by  Lynde  as  a  rival  for  her  ffecrions,  and  remem- 
bering his  jesting,  coaxing  voice  of  the  morning,  decided 
to  go  down.  >he  was  lonely,  and,  dad  in  a  lavender  house- 
gown  with  an  ermine  collar  and  sleeve  cuffs,  was  leadiac 
a  book.  * 

w7L^**°r  ^'"^  music-room,"  she  said  to  the  lackev. 

When  she  entered  she  was  breathing  with  some  slight  diffi- 
culty, for  so  Lynde  affected  her.  She  knew  she  had  dit- 
played  fear  by  not  going  to  him  before,  and  pieviout 
cowardice  plainly  manifested  does  not  add  to  one't  power 
of  resistance. 

"Oh!"  she  exclaimed,  with  an  assumption  of  bravado 
which  she  did  not  feel   "I  didn't  expect  to  see  you  so 

309 


THE  TITAN 

soon  after  your  telephone  messaw    Y«..  u 

in  our  house  before;  have  vou?   W    »    ^^""^  ^^ei 

coat  and  hat  and  come  into  the llleYw  Sf^"  ^"u' 

and  you  might  be  interested  In  cn^^  'nghter  there 

Lvnde,  who  was  Sn<?  J     ^  °^  ^^'^  pictures." 
migft  prolong  hTs  stay  an!  overcoV^"  ^*«^>^ 
accepted,  pretending,  however  S^^T  "^"^^"^ 
»»d^th  a  moment^Jo  s^Ir?  '  ''"^  "^^^^'^^  P«»Wg 

resis  tK^^^^^  again.  Couldn't 

charming."  ^  ^^''^^        P»ece  of  work  it  is,  too, 

wte^^^^^  the  picture 

blue-and-white  striped  ^p^asTshh^?*"'^^^^  ""^'"^ 
against  the  Dutch  backe?ou^d  oV  5  ^  ^^nch 
by  the  picture  she  pre^f  nted  in  K^^^^^  Charmed 
comphmentaiy.  iVdav  .h^  S^n'^Ily 
fiber  of  her  hTd  hardened  as  it  dl  niddilr-thj 
years  come  on;  but  sh^  was  st  11  fnTirS''  "^^^  « 
mjhe  sumr.;,  but  iS  fMm"  ^^"^""-^ 

not  kSor^uXti'ndlTolP".-'-^  I  did 

Israels,  I  s'U"  n^cSsme  ITm        ?°  ^P^^ntative 
a  reoresentative  colSoS  isn^^^^^^^  ^"'^^ 

aome  of  the  things  are  excellent  "  d,. 
an  air,  aping  Cbwpemoo^Tnd  "  "hers^'^^^^^^  "^''^ 
be  weeded  out  eventuallv-lthVt  p  '  i         """ber  will 
Gova-as  better  examDl^        ^  ^^"J  ^""^^  thif 

She  had  he^Jd  CbranZi 
over.  ^wperwood  tay  as  much,  over  and 

and  mterested,  pleased  ami  ent^l.-   j  "^^u^al 
channing  presence!  EvSentr  he '^^^  n^'^'^'  ^''7''' 
much  more  than  a  passing  socL  .,ii  r**"^  ^  Pay 

Lynde  was  studyine  her  fJnn^  band, 
distant  air  wasTavfnJ  'aI  h^r^u'^  h»  Hght, 

vey  of  the  gane^fIT?;marked.'""^^^  ^  ^^'^  ^^^^  '"^ 
I  have  always  wondered  about  this  house.   I  fa^ 


AILEEN'S  REVENGE 

Lord  did  it,  of  coune,  and  I  always  heard  it  wa«  well  done. 

That  is  the  dining-room,  I  suppose?" 

Aile^  -,  who  had  always  been  inordinately  vain  of  the 
house  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  had  proved  <^  small  use 
socially,  was  delighted  to  show  him  the  remainder  of  the 
rooms.  Lynde,  who  was  used,  of  course,  to  houses  of  all 
degrees  of  material  splendor— that  of  his  own  family  being 
ooe  of  the  best— pretended  an  interest  he  did  not  feel. 
He  commented  as  he  went  on  the  taste  of  the  decorations 
and  wood-carving,  the  charm  of  the  arrangraient  that 
permitted  neat  brief  vistas,  and  the  like. 

"Just  wait  a  moment,"  said  Aileen,  as  they  neared  the 
door  of  her  own  boudoir.  "I've  forgotten  whether  mine 
is  in  order.   I  want  you  to  see  that." 

She  opened  it  and  stepped  in. 

"Yes,  you  may  come,**  she  called. 

He  followed.  "Oh  yes,  indeed.  Very  charming.  Very 
graceful—those  little  lacy  dancing  figures— aren't  they?  A 
delightful  color  scheme.  It  hacmoniaes  with  you  exactly. 
It  IS  quite  hke  you." 

He  paused,  looking  at  the  spacious  rug,  which  was  of 
^arm  blues  and  creams,  and  at  the  gilt  ormolu  bed.  "Well 
done,  he  said,  and  then,  suddenly  changing  his  mood 
and  dropping  his  talk  of  decoration  (Afleen  was  to  his 
^'^^een  her  and  the  door),  he  added: 
leu  me  now  why  won't  you  come  to  the  barn-dance 
to-night?   It  would  be  charming.    You  will  enjoy  it.** 

Aileen  saw  the  sudden  change  in  his  mood.  She  recog- 
luied  that  by  showing  him  the  rooms  she  had  led  herself 
mto  an  easily  made  disturbing  podtimi.  Hit  dark  engaging 
eyes  told  their  own  story.  ess 

,  "^J'  1^°^*}  »n  the  mood  to.  I  haven't  for  a  num- 
ber of  things  for  some  time.    I — ** 

She  began  to  move  unconcernedly  about  him  toward  the 
door,  but  he  detained  her  with  his  hand.   "Don't  go  just 
yet,   he  said.    "Let  me  talk  to  you.   You  alwayt  evade 
me  m  such  a  nervous  way.   Don't  you  like  me  at  alir 
•  *  *      talk  just  as  well  down 

m  the  music-room  as  here?   Can*t  I  tell  you  why  I  evade 

3" 


THE  TITAN 


Lynde  showed  his  even  white  teeth  in  two  gleamii 

^  Py  maliciousness.  "Surel 

1  y same,"  replied  Aileen,  still  gay,  but  now  slieh 
ly  disturbed  also,  '  I  think  we  might  as  teil .   YoiJ^Il  S 
me  just  as  entertaming  down-stairs." 
m.w5f  T^""^'       his  strength,  quite  as  Cowperwood's,  wj 
much  too  great  for  her    he  was  a  8tix,ng  man.  * 

her.,    sl^i'^i  l^i^  "^"^^"'^  ^«  this  wa 

here.    Some  one  might  come  m.   What  cause  have  I  eive 

you  thmk  you  could  do  like  this  with  meV 
in.r  W  '^nding  over  her  and  smooth 

ing  her  plump  arms  with  his  brown  hands.  "Oh  no  defi 
nite  cause,  perhaps.  You  are  a  cause  in  your^If.  I  S 
A^cn^r  n-T'  ^  ^^^'^  "ight  we  were  at  th 

"oh  T  '"^^  '  you  understand  then?   I  thought  you  did' 
Oh,  I  understood  that  you  liked  me,  and  all  that  ner 
haps.    Any  one  might  do  t6at.    But  as  for  any  h  ng  lik'^^^ 

r  BSten"'T.';^Tn^'"  never  dreameS^ 

«.    But  hsten    I  thmk  I  hear  some  one  coming."  Aileen 

Tdded?  vigorous  effort  to  free  herself  and  Sng 

iunt  ii  Pl^f «  me  go.  Mr.  Lynde.  It  isn't  very  ga! 
win    yr^A  T''        "-"training  a  woman  againSL 

a  moment."  '  '^'^  ""^^   ^  ^'^^  «>*  ^KH^ 

cio^if  "i^e?"  wimkling,  mali- 

"Really  I    How  you  go  on  I   You  would  think  I  was  a 

me  ^lunch?"  Y     .-3^  T  "'^^  you'saTd  to 

me  at  lunch?   You  didn't  keep  your  promise.    You  prac- 
tically gave  me  to  understand  that  you  would  come.  Why 
didn  t  you?   Are  you  afraid  of  me,  or  don't  y^u  1  ke  me 
or  both?   I  think  you're  delicious,  splendid,  a^d  I  ™t  to 

DulHn^h^rll^"  position,  Dutting  one  arm  about  her  waist, 
other  ^e  r°  J""*  looking  into  her  eyes.    With  £ 

other  he  held  her  free  arm.    Suddenly  he  covered  her 

for  me^Jn^n^"        ^fe"  ^"^^  "  Y^u 


312 


AILEEN»S  REVENGE 

He  held  her  quite  firm,  while  Aileen  straggled.  It  was 
a  new  sensation  this — that  of  the  other  man,  and  this  was 
Polk  Lynde,  the  first  individual  outside  o^  Cowperwood 
to  whom  she  had  ever  felt  drawn.  But  now,  here,  in  her 
own  room — and  it  was  within  the  range  of  possibilities  that 
G>wperwood  might  return  or  the  servants  enter. 

"Oh,  but  think  what  you  are  doing,*'  she  protested,  not 
really  disturbed  as  yet  as  to  the  outcome  of  the  contest 
with  him,  and  feeling  as  though  he  were  merely  trying  to 
make  her  be  sweet  to  him  without  intending  anything  more 
at  present— "  here  in  my  own  room  1  Really,  you're  not  the 
man  I  thought  you  were  at  all,  if  you  don't  instantly  let 
me  go.  Mr.  Lynde!  Mr.  Lynde r  (He  had  bent  over 
and  was  kissing  her).  "Oh,  you  shouldn't  do  this !  Really  I 
I — I  said  I  might  come,  but  that  was  far  from  doing  it. 
And  to  have  vou  come  here  and  take  advantage  of  me  in 
this  wajrl  ^  I  think  you're  horrid.  If  I  ever  had  amr  interest 
in  you,  it  is  quite  dead  now,  I  can  assure  you.  Unless  you 
let  me  go  at  once,  I  give  you  my  word  I  will  never  see  you 
any  more.  I  won't!  Really,  I  won't!  I  mean  it!  Oh, 
please  let  me  go!  I'll  scream,  I  tell  you  I  I'll  never  see 
you  again  after  this  dayl  Oh-—** 
useless  struggle. 


you  I 

It  was  an  intenw  but 


Commg  home  one  evening  about  a  week  later,  Cowper- 
wood [found  Aileen  humming  cheerfully,  and  yet  also  in 
a  seemingly  deep  and  reflective  mood.  She  was  just  com- 
pleting an  evening  toilet,  and  looked  young  and  cobiful-- 
quite  her  avid,  seeking  self  of  earlier  days. 

"Well,"  he  asked,  checrfuUy,  "how  have  things  gone 
to-day  r 

Aileen,  feeling  somehow,  as  one  will  on  occasions,  that  if 
she  had  done  wrong  she  was  justified  and  that  sometime 
because  of  this  she  might  even  win  Cowperwood  back,  felt 
somewhat  kindliertoward  him.  "Oh,  very  well,"  she  replied. 

I  stopped  m  at  the  Hoecksemas'  this  afternoon  for  a  little 
while.  They're  going  to  Mexico  in  November.  She  has 
the  darhngest  new  basket-carriage— if  she  only  looked  like 
anything  when  she  rode  in  it.  Etta  is  getting  ready  to 
enter  Bryn  Mawr.  She  is  all  fussed  up  about  leaving  her 
dog  and  cat.   Then  I  went  down  to  one  of  Lane  Cross's 

3«3 


THE  TITAN 

receptions,  and  over  to  Merrill's  "—she  was  refcmn* 
the  great  store-"  and  home.    I  saw7wtoT  Lo3  «,T6J? 
Lyn|e  to^e^her  in  Wabash  Avenul"  * ^'^^^  ^  ^"^^ 
teresSg?"^        commented  Cowperwood.    "Is  he  in- 

"Yes,  he  is,"  replied  Aileen.    "I  never  met  a 
with  such  perfect  manners.    He's  so  f«dnSfn«r 

had  enough  worldly  experience."  *° 

'^^.'^^^'■d,"  commented  Cowperwood.  "Wasn't' 
he  the  one  that  was  m.xed  up  in  that  Carmen  forriba  case 
ma«er  oT         '^^K  .  Cowperwood  v.as  referring  to  the 

whir^  LvnH.  i^Tu^  '"/^''"S      Amerifa  w^th 

whom  Lynde  had  been  apparently  desperately  in  love. 

nnJfrZ'J^*     I  P"*^  Al^^"'   maliciously;    "but  that 

faa        ^       """"  •»  "l"*  ""dying 

Mvely.     You  think  I'll  stay  here  and  be  contem  whiL 

S«  .tV-'^- ^^^^^^^^^ 

as  to  whether  other  men  are  interested  in  me  or  not?'' 

The  truth  was  that  Cowperwood  was  not  clearly  think- 
Lnvmnl"?l,P™K''''"  ^'^^^^^  Lynde  anJ  Aileen 

m»  and  vet"iJ connection  with  her  and  any  o  he" 

S  wk8  ^h^/^L^        ""r,^  '^""l-^^  ™  some  one. 

It  was  this  that  Aileen  felt  m  him,  and  that  broueht  forth 
her  seemmgly  uncalled-for  comment.    Cowper^^d  und« 

«  ?l  "nphcation  cleariy. 

Aileen,   he  cooed,  "how^you  talkl  Why  do  you  say 


AILEEN'S  REVENGE 

that?  You  know  I  care  for  you.  I  can't  prevent  any- 
thing }rou  want  to  do,  and  I'm  sure  you  know  I  don't  want 
to.  It's  you  that  I  want  to  see  satisfied.  You  know  that 
I  care." 

"Yes,  I  know  how  you  care,"  replied  Aileen,  her  mood 
changing  for  the  moment.    "Don't  start  that  old  stulF, 

r lease.  I'm  sick  of  it.  I  know  how  you're  nuuiing  around, 
know  about  Mrs.  Hand.  Even  the  newspapers  make 
that  plain.  You've  been  home  just  one  evening  in  the  last 
«*ight  days,  long  enough  for  me  to  get  more  than  a  glimpse 
of  you.  Don't  talk  to  me.  Don't  try  to  bill  and  coo.  Fve 
always  known.  Don't  think  I  don't  know  who  your  latest 
flame  is.  But  don't  begin  to  whine,  and  don't  quarrel 
with  me  if  I  go  about  and  get  interested  in  other  men,  as 
I  certainly  will.  It  will  be  all  your  fault  if  I  do,  and  you 
know  It.  ^  Don't  begin  and  complain.  It  won't  do  you  any 
good.  I'm  not  going  to  sit  here  and  be  made  a  fool  of. 
1  ve  told  you  that  over  and  over.  You  don't  believe  it, 
but  I  m  not.  I  told  you  that  I'd  find  some  one  one  of  these 
days,  and  I  will.   As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  have  already." 

At  this  remark  G>wperwood  surveyed  her  coolly,  criti- 
cally, and  yet  not  unsympathetically;  but  she  swung  out 
of  the  room  with  a  defiant  air  before  anything  could  be 
said,  and  went  down  to  the  music-room,  from  whence  a 
few  moments  later  there  rolled  up  to  him  from  the  hall 
below  the  strains  of  the  second  Hungarian  Rhapsodic,  feel- 
mgly  and  for  once  movingly  played.  Into  it  Aileen  put 
^u^^u     J  misery.  Cowperwood  hated 

the  thought  for  the  moment  that  some  one  as  smug  as 
Lynde— so  good-looking,  so  suave  a  society  rake— should 
interest  Aileen;  but  if  it  must  be,  it  must  be.  He  could 
have  no  honest  reason  for  complaint.  At  the  same  time  a 
breath  of  real  sorrow  for  the  days  that  had  gone  swept  over 
him.  He  remembered  her  in  Philadelphia  in  her  red  cape 
as  a  school-girl— in  his  father's  house— out  horseback-rid- 
ing, driving.  What  a  splendid,  loving  giri  she  had  been— 
such  a  sweet  fool  of  love.  Could  she  really  have  decided 
not  to  worry  a^ut  him  anymore?  Could  it  be  possible 
that  she  might  find  some  one  else  who  would  be  interested 
m  her,  and  in  whom  she  would  take  a  keen  interest?  It  was 
an  odd  dioiiglit  for  him. 

31s 


THE  TITAN 

<'Qu\ur^  "®  "^^  seen  bearine  the  auestion 

bhall  Cowperwood  own  the  citv  ?"  "  p  l" 
I  call  that,"  he  commuted    AnH  rh  ^^f  «>' Fj^ap  pohtict, 


sub- 
but 


A,l-»„  k  J    '  out  1  decided  I  wouldn't-  " 

^  What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  he  asked,  eendv 
.Oh,  just  what  I  say.    One  will  do."     ^  ^' 
You  mean  vou  are  in  love  with  Lynde»" 

fiantIy™"Vat  difF^^'  "°?P"^.»nd        eyed  him  de- 

nSnf  Y«  l\m  r""'^^'^^*^!  "  "^'^^  ^  yo^  what  I 
•uMur    ZM,  1  am.    But  what  do  vou  cai*?  Wk«. 

consideration  for  vm.  tUrZ  u  watcnr  It  hasn  t  been  any 
pose  I  am  ?n  lov^?  Suji 
you?"  difference  would  it  make  ta 

Ye;^'oTca,^""shTfl  ^        -r^^'^  '^at^ 

WeU.ril5u."taf^jteX"^^^^^^ 

Jio 


AILEEN'S  REVENGE 

was  driving  her  on— "I  am  in  love  with  Lynde,  and  what's 
more,  J  m  his  mistress.  And  I'll  continue  to  be.  But 
what  do  you  care?  Pshaw!" 

Her  eyes  blazed  hotly,  her  color  rose  high  and  strong. 
She  brearhed  heavily.  ^ 

At  this  announcement,  made  in  the  heat  of  spite  and 
rige  g-nerated  by  long  indifference,  Cowperwood  sat  up 
for  a  moment,  and  his  eyes  hardened  with  quite  that  im- 
placable glare  with  which  he  sometimes  confronted  an 
enemy.  He  felt  at  once  there  were  many  things  he  could 
do  to  make  her  life  miserable,  and  to  take  revenge  on  Lynde, 
but  he  decided  after  a  moment  he  would  not.  It  was  not 
weakness,  but  a  sense  of  superior  power  that  was  movi*^ 
him.  Why  should  he  be  jealous?  Had  he  not  been  un- 
kind enough?  In  a  moment  his  mood  changed  to  one  of 
sorrow  for  Aileen,  for  himself,  for  life,  indeed— its  tangles 
of  desire  and  necessity.  He  could  not  blame  Aileen.  Lynde 
was  surely  attractive.  He  had  no  desire  to  part  with  her 
or  to  quarrel  with  him— merely  to  temporarily  cease  all  in- 
timate relations  with  her  and  allow  her  mood  to  clear  itself 
"^li  *^S"*P*  she  would  want  to  leave  him  of  her  own  ac- 
cord. Perhaps,  if  he  ever  found  the  right  woman,  this 
might  prove  good  grounds  for  his  leaving  her.  The  right 
'^T/M~^,r/^  was  she?    He  had  never  found  her  yet. 

Aileen,   he  said,  quite  softly,  "I  wish  you  wouldn't 
feel      bitterly  about  this.    Why  should  you?   When  did 
Will  you  tell  me  that?" 

N<h  1 11  not  tell  you  that,"  she  replied,  bitterly.  "  It's 

none  ofyour  affair,  and  I'U  not  tell  you.  WhysKouMyou 
askr    You  don  t  care. 

rolhi'v  ^  ^°"'r  irritably,  almost 

iT^cf"^*  H- u*^  J  ^r-.  me  that,  at 

least.  His  eves  had  a  hard,  cold  look  for  the  momt. 
iymg  zwzy,  though,  into  kindly  inquiry. 

Oh,  not  long  ago.   About  a  week,"  Afleen  answered,  as 
though  she  were  compelled.  ' 

;;How  long  have  you  known  himr  he  asked,  curiously, 
winter.-  I  »«  to  lak 

"  And  did  you  do  this  ddiberately-because  you  were 
m  love  with  hun,  or  because  you  ibnted  to  hin  mtP 

317 


tutaf  fritfitfiiir  rti- 


THE  TITAN 

He  could  not  believe  from  past  acnM  hr,»  

that  she  had  ceased  to  love  him 

acdM  d.i.  way,  and  hoVyoi  mff Ll  .fi.;™  "JV™  " 
on.  It  isn't  aiythmg  I  wfflXT!!  h' "r -fyoue 
wave  of  fetlint  ™  paused,  caught  by  i 

t.on'J^at'^lV&n  b^f  'T^«  '""^ 
up  memories  of  ThV  pa«    "•wd?'v°*T^  '"^ 
tfcy  for  yourself    I  ne^  V  I  ''""/'""P"; 

w>A  you  wouldn't  talk  to  me  "  1 
r-  i&Xhich'fe^r  "■•*»"ch  force  that  she  upset 
Awish  "pttch  on  rhTXe  iS^rtT^ 
-ardthedoor.  Shew^S^^^-Ste^irj 

wL'h."''''''Jl'"-^§  "ft"  her,rq!„d. 

'^tTSfl^.STndJiS'nd'Xrhe'^^^^^^ 

jiw  A  mte  your   She  flung  herself  loose  and  stood 

318 


AILEEN'S  REVENGE 


ting  down 
ome  table 

re  spread, 
3site  each 
ne.  You 
'ou  know 
with  you. 
Y  you  are 
if  vou  go 
light  by  a 

the  emo- 
m  stirred 
■  sympa- 
ilong.  I 

he  upset 
I  frayed, 
>  hurried 

,  regard- 
;  chairs, 

to  him. 
an  teli. 
n  sorry, 
»  you." 
cncttcd 
ze  with 
I  doing. 

n  her 
r  more. 
1  stood 


you  to  talk  to  me  I  I 
You're  the  cause  of  all 


erect  before  him.   "I  don't  want 

don't  want  -ou  to  speak  to  me  I     ... 

my  troubles.  You're  the  cause  of  whatever  I  do,'when"l 
do  It,  and  don't  you  dare  to  deny  it!  You'U  aeel  Yoto'U 
see!   I'll  show  you  what  m  dor 

She  twisted  and  turned,  but  he  held  her  firmly  ttBtfl,  m 
his  strong  erasp,  as  usual,  the  coUapsed  and  began  to  cry. 

Oh,Iciy,  die  dcdated,  even  m  her  tean,"  but  ic  will  be 
|iwt  the  sane.  It'itoolMel  tookter 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

AN  BOUR  or  DEFEAT 

more  pained  to  leamTf  A^t  ^desTAiS.T^^^  ^  '"f 

Je  had  arrayed  a  whole  soria  I  ^ff  1  •  *®  l^"®^ 

Chicago,    rfe  could  iwt  Cet  Jr"'  'F'"';  'l'"'**'^  « 

days  when  Aileen  wasToun?  .n^l  thow  first 

the  substance  of  her  S'  Thi      '"1  ****** 

aU  his  efforts  and  coS^n.  il  '^'^"f^'  ^^'^ugh 

trated  undertone    I„~S?mJn  5^%"  ^'"/tf^ 

fc«  was  an  introspective  mTn   '  a  'P"'.®*^  "ctivity, 

pathos  of  brokenS  w^«  no?l"''^^i"-^  ^he 

bored  in  no  way  anv  «u3^r,  har- 

of  sorrow  ov«  fhe"L5L.lfl!  Aileen-only  a  kind 

governable  disposit  "r  he  wTfn'^rT  ^''^^'^ 
self.    Changer  Chanc'elrL"      fteedom  within  him- 

Who  parts  SSth  a  perfect  thlnTr'^^'^.P^^"* 

""ffrr^  i?ve,  wittuV^'toUTf '^^^^^^^^^  ^ 
.  But  there  followed  swiftlv  thT^lJl   r  x?"^^  . 
Its  election,  noisy  and  irrati^n.l   ''"^of  November,  with 
a  resounding  defeat    Ou"^  Ik*"!-*"*^  ^""'^^^ 
aldermen  nominated  only  te^wtV^'"^^^.  P<=™°<^"tic 
pos  t  on  a  full  ml^S  elected,  giving  the  op- 

^eman  and  Ke^tat  of  ZT.'^'V^  council^  MessT 
places.    With  them^came  a  rIh'^^^^  "'^'>^  «  '^«r 

Republican  associaTes  on  Aetl^fw^^^^^ 
to  carr;.  out  the  theories  of  the^i^kL"  W 
ous.    -^.wperwood  knew  whaV  i^T^^^  ^J^^  ^"U" 
once      make  overtureT  to  JhJ  P^^P"^^  at 

and  others  he  learned  by  d^rSs  the'f^ii  .J"'S5?.^K«>7 
and  Kerrigan's  treacherv  h„r  k!  ?j    "  »tory  of  Tiernan's 

ly  a«a«i?them  Kfe^'^^^^^^^ it  up  bitter- 

oucn  wu  me.   They  must  be  looked 


AN  HOUIt  OF  DEFEAT 

after  more  carefully  in  future,  or  caught  in  tome  trap  and 
utterly  undone.  According  to  their  own  acoouatl,  th^  had 
bardy  managed  to  scrape  through.  ^ 

.rrM^A     "^A^fJ  ^'^««  hundred  vote^" 

casions.      By  God,  I  almost  lost  me  own  ward!" 

But  no  one  believed  them. 

.K^mI^IIF''"*^  meditated  a.  to  how  in  two  years  he 
shr.ifd  be  Pble  to  undo  this  temporary  victo^  aHd  Cow! 

fo7h?m  ?c1f  •  -^ipon  was  thTbest  p^l^y 

v^unrMacte^S'  hands  Witt 

sure  that  tE^^r  1;''''^  wonocring  how  they  could  make 
SnH  nlrl  **"%P^«y  ^"o»y  would  cripple  Cowperwood 
and  permanently  prevent  him  from  returifng  to  ix>wei:  It 

r^fore  S;^;:;^'         that  followed,  but  ifintolved 

mS)  a  S^T°^  '^^i'*^  ^'"^'^  ""'^  alder- 
^?"*™*J"«.on  and  passage  of  the  much- 
nSP^  f;»eneral  Electnc  franchise,  the  granting  of  riehts 

fv  d^i  i«  r^**  "^^'^^  previous- 

ly dawned  on  Cowperwood  as  in  any  wav  orobablfr— tho 

SircZoraVoS  d^'""^,  to  •  S?SMh 

mg  an  eiei^ted  road.    This  was  as  severe  a  blow  ai 

a'Twlaor^and'"^"  9>wperwood,  foJ  k  b^ucS 
SdW  dS^ti^'LS^^^  ^he  Chicago  street- 

rauway  aituation  which  had  hitherto,  for  all  its  troubles 
been  comparatively  simple.  trouoies, 

.  In  order  to  make  this  plain  it  should  be  said  that  snm,. 
an  immense  success.    Cowperwood  had  beS  intereKn 


THE  TITAN 

^^^H^'tJlt^f         t  P^>^«»»  inspection  ot 

tnem.    He  knew  all  about  their  incorporation,  backers  thl 

Kn^'ir "'"1  "^'^  them  their Xtun,sranrso  £rth 
Personallv,  ,n  so  far  as  New  York  was  concerned,  he  con^ 

istnd    fc      cf  "'"'T  -  that'cJowded 

island.    Here  m  Chicago,  where  the  population  was  as 

InA  ~.";P,"=''^^Jy  smalT-verging  now  toward  a  Son 
thi^U^^y  '?aT^^  ?^"f.^  K'-^^t  area-he  did  n^t  feel' 
that  they  would  be  profitable-certainly  not  for  some  years 
to  come.    What  traffic  thev  gained  would  be  tak^n  fSm 

di?.Kr?"?  ''""'  ^"'^  ^"''t  them  he  would  be  merely 
doubline  his  expenses  to  halve  his  profits.    From  thne  J 

3k- k      n?en-providing  they  could  secure  a  franchise 

"  I  HTk        ^V?nn««ion  he  had  once  said  to  AdtCson^ 
lation t  ™  ^l^^"  the  time  the 

lation  is  sufficient  to  support  the  lines  they  will  have^Jen 
driven  mto  the  hands  of  receivers.   That  wirs  mpWch^^ 

With  this  conclusion  Addison  had  agreed.  But  since  £t 
conversation  circumstances  made  the  conttnicdon  oTtkS! 
elevated  roads  far  less  problematic. 

roiJ  P'^*'^'  P"i!'*^  'nterew  in  the  idea  of  elevated 

life  c^F  NeTv^r^^^^^  *  ""-"^^  ^  factorTn"h2 

r.«cJ;     r      L    '  this  time  nva  ry  mth  the  great 

Se  cE?cf.o"  "  ""^ViV  '^^^^  ^«  °f  the  Aver- 
age Chicago  citizen.  Public  sendment  in  this  direction 
however  naive  or  unworthy,  was  nevertheless  suS  ro 
make  any  elevated  road  in  Chicago  popular  for  the  time 
tewelhfeT^  "'^^-^''f  t'pAn'd  th«  be^usTof 
if  the  West  Chi^Ln"h"'7fi'  "fthusTasm  this  renaissance 
.Lr»L       'j  ^"^"y  l^een  chosen,  at  a  date 

shortly  preceding  the  present  campaign,  as  the  favored 
city  for  an  enormous  international  fai^^ufte  the  lar^m 

Memll,  and  Arneel,  ro  say  nothing  of  the  virioiu.  ne^ 

ST         ^"^'Nn  '"^  Cowperwood  had  bee^ 

KLSvh^^JiAJ^'''^  however,  had  the  award 
acttiauy  been  granted  than  Gmpenrood't  enemiea  made 

4«« 


AN  HOUR  OF  DEFEAT 

it  their  first  cuiceni  to  utilize  die  ntuaticm  against 

him. 

To  begin  with,  the  site  of  the  fair,  by  aid  of  the  new  anti- 
Cowperwood  council,  was  located  on  the  South  Side,  at 
the  terminus  of  the  Schryhart  line,  thus  making  the  whole 
city  pay  tribute  to  that  corporation.  Simultaneously  the 
thought  suddenly  dawned  upon  the  Schryhart  faction  that 
It  would  be  an  excellent  stroke  of  business  if  the  New  York 
elevated-road  idea  were  now  introduced  into  the  city — 
not  so  much  with  the  purpose  of  making  money  immediate- 
ly, but  in  order  to  bring  the  hated  magnate  to  an  under- 
standing that  he  had  a  formidable  rival  which  might  in- 
vade the  territory  that  he  now  monopolized,  curtailmg  his 

Erofits  and  thug  makmg  it  advisable  for  him  to  close  out 
IS  holdmgs  and  depart.  Bland  and  interesting  were  the 
conferences  held  bv  Mr.  Schryhart  with  Mr.  Hand,  and 
by  Mr.  Hand  with  Mr.  Ameel  on  this  subject.  Their  plan 
as  first  outlmed  was  to  build  an  elevated  road  on  the  South 
Side — south  of  the  proposed  fair-grounds — and  once  that 
was  popular— having  previously  secured  franchises  which 
would  cover  the  entire  field,  West,  South,  and  North— to 
construct  the  others  at  their  leisure,  and  so  to  bid  Mr. 
Cowperwood  a  sweet  and  smiling  adieu. 

Cowperwood,  awaiting  the  assembling  of  the  new  city 
council  one  month  after  election,  did  not  propose  to  wait 
m  peace  and  quiet  until  the  enemy  should  strike  at  him 
unprepared.  Calling  those  familiar  agents,  his  corporation 
attorneys,  around  him,  he  was  shortly  informed  of  the  new 
elevated-road  idea,  and  it  gave  him  a  real  shock.  Obvious- 
ly Hand  and  Schryhart  were  now  in  deadly  earnest.  At 
once  he  dictated  a  letter  to  Mr.  Gilgan  asking  him  to  call 
at  his  office.  At  the  same  rime  he  hurriedly  adjured  his 
advisers  to  use  due  diUgence  in  discovering  what  influences 
i  VJ^ugnt  tt>  *>ear  on  the  new  mayor,  the  honorable 
V^tnttee  lhayer  Sluss,  to  cause  him  to  veto  the  ordinances 
m  case  they  came  before  him— to  eflFect  in  him.  indeed,  a 
total  change  of  heart. 

The  Hon.  Chaffee  Thayer  Sluss,  whose  attitude  in  this 
mstance  was  to  prove  crucial,  was  a  uU,  shapely,  some- 
wbat  gtanditoqueBt  person  who  took  liiaiwtf  and  liit  ao- 

f«3 


THE  TITAN 


haps,  the  tjipe  of  mTor  tm?n  Jhf  «isld  "^^^^^^  ^ 
phere  of  comparative  comfort  La  atmos- 
tension,  and  beimr  short  of  T  «>aa'  Pre- 

human'  brain-pl^^^hkh  perSSfa^n"^  convolutions  in  the 
«  aU  its  fortuLusnSfan'dTcerSib^^^^^ 
of  an  absence  of  necessitv  anA  tulT^*  Proceed  because 
man  experience  to  take  rLmi"*^  consequent  lack  of  hu- 
the  most  reverendall^Jd  F^^^^^       ^""^  ^"  do  in 

Hon.  Chaffee  fhfversi.^r''^^  »PWt.  The 

splendid  ancesti^'S  S      onded' h'''  ^f^T' 
essentially  honest  nwn    H.\  f  j""'^'^'  ''^  '^as  an 

fortune  in^the  whoS  harness  busineL  "r^'i' 
at  the  age  of  twentv-eipht  fcT£  j  ^'^^  whom 

consequential  type  ^^^^oln  J^^^^  Prettv  but  in- 

manufacturer,  Xse  warT«  ^17  •  *  <laughter  of  a  pickle 
children  had  beTc^^^S  g^^^^  ""te„'  ^h"'  ''^T 
Srhafct'hLlj'^  C»)'ff^e'?Ius"eta;\nid" 

a  honeymtoX  to  '^'^^^ 
Canon.   Then  t!ie  sfeek  of/ff  ""^  'he  Grand 

families  becaSs^  of  his  smuf  d^tT"''  of  both 

world,  had  returned  to  hTtt^.T^'V'^  '°  'he 

paper-broker,  and  had  b«un  S'  rh^^J!"  » 

*«ass  a  competence  on  hit^"!^^^^^       g«ate«  ca»  to 

faults!  H  no  particular 

ness  as  to  his  own  prospecS  ^  over-caieful- 
counted  as  such    But  opportunities  can  be 

of  his  young  w  fe'f  stem  \^^/"*^^"l""''k^hich.  in  view 
and  the  relfgi^us  prope^side^  ^JT'^V'  Pu^'anic  ideas 
in-law,  was  efceedin^^^T/d^s  '  k-^^ 

for  the  beauty  of  women  in  an  eye 

plump,  blonde  womST^Vk  ^"'^"^  '  and  particularly  4 
then,  ik  spi?e  of  thTfact  fhnt7™rf°''l^^'^-  Now  and 
lovely  chifdren!  he  woiid  cast  a  medl"?  7' '^-^^ 
eye  after  thos;  alSg  S.  '^"^^  speculative 
men  and  that  seem  to Veck^J  Jjll  ''l?  P?'^  °^  all 
hy  actual,  open  su^est^n  «»Ph«t^  if  not 

IWer.  «  wa.  not  imtU^enU  years  after  Mr.  SIu« 


AN  HOUR  OF  DEFEAT 

had  married,  and  when  he  might  have  been  considered  set- 
tled in  the  ways  of  nghteousness,  that  he  actually  essayed  to 
any  extent  the  role  of  a  gay  Lothario.  An  experience  or 
two  with  the  less  vigorous  and  vicious  girls  of  the  streets 
a  tentauve  love  affair  with  a  giri  in  his  office  who  was  not 
new  to  the  practices  she  encouraged,  and  he  was  fairly 
launched.  He  lent  himself  at  first  to  the  great  folly  o( 
pretending  to  love  truly;  but  this  was  taken  by  one  and 
another  intelligent  young  woman  with  a  grain  of  salt.  The 
entertainment  and  preferment  he  could  provide  were  ac 

^„   /l^'/^^'T'  g'*-''  however,  actually 

A  c  »>e  compensated  by  five  thousand  dollars 
—and  that  after  such  terrors  and  heartaches  (his  wife,  her 
tamily,  and  his  own  loominr  up  horribly  in  the  back- 
ground) as  should  have  cureo  him  forever  of  a  penchant 
a  lonTZ'A      ^  fi^  cmDloyees  generally.    Thereafter  for 

factur^r,  wh^J-^^^  '^'■^"•^t  l^'^"*^'  ^^^^J^"*'  and  manu- 
.W.^  business  with  him,  and  who  occasionally 

A,  Si™  '°       form  of  bacchanalian  feast  or  another^ 

^KidaS^K  ''"'i  merchants  and  some  superior 

Tard  ^n  whlKT  ^y^^^^^^  encounter,  and  because  the 
b4an  to  «n.]l  W  ^^PP«»«>.  to  ^  a  Pivotal  one,  he 
tff^mi^i^  f''if"*"'^'y  to  gather  dimly 

the  import  of  that  logic  which  sees  life  as  a  pagan  wilZ 

off  to  in-""/  convention  as  the  forms  man  pSts  on  «; 
SSlV  J-  Ik^"  fancy,  mood,  and  whims  during  tKe  onward 
dnft  of  the  ages.    Not  for  Chaffee  Thayer  Sluss  to  erasn 

Men  led  dual  lives,  it  was  true;  but  say  what  yoa  would 

On  sCni'J'"K°^*'f  "^""8  conduct^ this  wa^s  verbad: 
On  Sunday,  when  he  went  to  church  with  his  wife,  he  felt 

ne  s  he  ^°"n7l"!3?V        Pr'*"^'"^-  own  bit ! 

be  better  than  h»  neighbor,  or  pretend  to  be.  ^ 

3*5 


THE  TITAN 


asS'  In  si^te  of  a  ll'?^^^^^^  rag-bag  „,oraIistic  a« 
qualms  due  to^hfs  fL"of  ^esultam 
business  and  rose  to  Lme  Sen^^  h'"'  P'^^'P^^td  in 
As  he  had  grown  more  bVKl  k  j  V"  community, 
genial  and  toIeTrnrmorr«„er.'n  fm^what  more 

good  Republican  a  foSntS  •  'u^  acceptable.  He  was  a 
and  youSg  TrumaS  feMTcot^'IS^"  SimmJ 
was  both  rich  and  i^eratelJ^X^ 
himself  to  some  campaiim  soeakji?^ ,  j  ''^^'"K  '^nt 
general,  he  provedTui  f  an*^  3!'"?  '°  P^«/  ^o^k  ia 
things-his  Ability,  s^ch  as  it  wf.  ^"  '^^^^ 

thoroughly  respecSbirsavor-hT  K'^K  P'^^'^'^y,  and  his 
date  for  mayo? on  the  S^;*  '''"^d  as  candi- 

wouently  been  elected  ^^P"''''"^"  ^'^^«»  ^Wch  had  sub- 

r^^u's' ^mparg^^  ZfjlTT        ^^'""^^  in  the 

AlreacfyThfd  tcutsed'it'ra'^"'^"^^  °^  ^'^^^ 
the  Hon.  Joel  Avery  (exitate  Jn,T  ^'^ 
employ  at  the  time.   Ale^  hL-    "?' bis 
of  corporation  work,  and  ^„i;  « 
courts— lawyers  iud       .  r  -  ^^^^  o«t8  of  the 

vised  statutL  'lie  ir/a'^^er vT.".r'*  '^"^^  'e^ 
five  feet  one.  inch  Lu-withTwl'r'"^.""^'  ^^^^n 

brows,  brown,  cat-lTke  eveT  /nH  '''""'^L*"'^"*" 
that  occasionally  covered  thl  nnn  ""^^^  '«> 

After  years  and  yearl  Mr  AvervT  J  T'^ 
't  was  in  a  strange,  exotic  wlr  Mni''^"^^ 
folded  his  lower  1  p  over  hf.'  ^  "^^^''y- 

his  almost  unchanifeahL  i  "^P**"  ^"^  expressed 
phrases.  In  the  ^Ts^nt  crS^s  it'w  '  S  'L^^  AddfsoniaS 
*  w^stion  to  mkke!  ^veiy  who  had 

perwooVt'dt^n^'vetrnfi^^^  'T'I^  "'^  Cbw- 
%  to  have  a  look  into  the-^fck  conference,  "would 
affairs-of  the  Hon  rk^ff  '  say  the  heart 

-t-Hke  eye?Sed^^a£iSl^^?}yT"  T^^' 
.nustaken,  judgine  the  man  k,  k-  ^*      ^^}^^^  ^  am  greatly 
fce  is  the  sort^of^'  ^oTwhn  n  '  E'lr  ?'  P^"*^"^«  "Ser^ly, 
m  ght  readily  b2  induced  to  ha^"^  ^'^ 
-th  a  wo^  whM-X"':^^^ 

3^ 


AN  HOUR  OF  DEFEAT 

on  his  part  to  smooth  over.  We  are  all  human  and  vubier- 
able  —up  went  Mr.  Aveiy's  lower  lip  covering  the  upper 
one,  and  then  down  again— "and  it  does  not  behoove  any 
of  us  to  be  too  severely  ethical  and  self-righteous.  Mr.  Slun 
"  A^^t  J"'"^^"'"*  *        sentimental,  as  I  take  it.** 

As  Mr.  Avery  paused  Cowperwood  merely  contemplated 
him,  amused  no  less  by  his  personal  appearance  than  bv 
his  suggestion.  ' 

'Yes,"  said  Mr.  Avery,  soulfully,  "there  may  be  soine- 
tlUM  m  It.   I  don't  know.    You  never  can  tell.** 

«»Pfhot  of  this  was  that  the  task  of  obtaining  an  ac- 
count of  Mr.  Sluss's  habits,  tastes,  and  procliviriet  was  as- 
Mgned  to  that  now  rather  dignified  legal  personage,  Mr. 
Burton  S>tim8on,  who  m  turn  assigned  it  to  an  assistant,  a 
niJ^r  k  ^''"u'-  \^f^  amazing  titaadon  in  some 
f  1- anything  concerning  the  in- 
tticaaes  of  politics,  finance,  and  corporate  control,  as  they 

From  another  quarter,  the  Hon.  Patrick  Gilgan  was  not 
hrjJ-rr*'*"^  ^  Cowperwood*.  mes^igeT  Whate^eJ 
his  political  connections  and  prodtviticaThe  did  not  can 
">.pe«lect  so  powerful  a  man.  ««  ore 

wood  ?' k!  •    ""j^  y**"  Mr.  Cowper- 

TeTv  sniJk  3"'^'  ^5""  looking  nice  andftSi. 

very  spick  and  span  after  his  victory. 

.h.R"^kr^''^"«*"''>?»**<^o^^o<^  simply,  eying 
his  thumbs  with  fingers  interlocked,  "are  /ou  going  to  let 

Sou.h'?-5°Ti'  General  filectS^  dSJ 

South  Side  'L*  road  ordinance  without  giving  me 
*o  say  a  word  or  do  anything  about  it?'* 
Mr.  Gilgan,  so  Cowperwood  knew,  was  only  one  of  a  new 

?o  Mj^rSa^h  f"'^  '""^  t>''  hTp;?tend:d 

to  believe  that  he  was  the  last  word— an  all  oower  and 
authonty-after  the  fashion  of  McKenty.  ^ 

Me  good  man,  *  repUed  Gilgan,  archly,  "you  latter  OW. 


THE  TITAN 


as  far  as  I  know    AH  »k1  "onest  ordinance. 

As  for  thil  •L  Toad  o  d  ^anc'eT hfv"  «' 
with  it.    It  isn't  anvthinif  T  tn  ^"^^"^  anything  to  do 

the  name  of  glemm-TJV  ^  politics-an  alderman  by 
marshal,  ^ffZ.M{'cS^n^^^^^^^^ 
Kerntan,  or  Edstrom-who        to  nv.n5  '  ^'f^^"* 
calcitrant  aldermen.  teUiM^I^  2  -    j  "P^^^^ 
quadrumvirate  had  not      vet^n^  rt"  ^"S:*  9"gan's 
workine  order  thonrrh       ^    ^1  their  machine  n  good 
this  a^out    ''I ffi/t^  their  best  to  bri^ 

it's  true;  but  that Xsn't  mSn  "^^^ 

i?;       ,       yet    Cowperwood  smiled 

almost  entirely  °S  vour  JSr^  /  Repubhcan  situation 
as  you  like  ifVouCo^nd^f  "if  ^°Ji^*"  "^^^^ 
I>ersuade  the  m^embers  of  ^S^dUo  ta^^cn^  ^ 
time  than  thev  othi.rJ-I       ij  •       ^°"^'°^"Dle  more 

nances-^fthaTrm  suT"*'ldnnVV:^^ 

or  not,  Mr.  Gilin  thou.K  I    *  ^""^ '''aether  you  know 

whole  fight  agaiSme  i^^^  {/^^^  that  this 

drive  me'out  Kic^go"  NorWre"a**"S  j^"'"* 
judgment  and  considerahlt 

want  to  ask  youTf  you^Sbk  "tLT?  f^T"?!!'  ' 


want  to  ask  PouTyouTfek  Z^^^^  experience,  and  I 
some  sixteen  or  seven^t^n  vfar  "  "  Z^""'  ^  ^^^'"e 
business.  It  4sTn  on^n^fi  K  ^^l  ^"^.^"^  '"^o  the  gas 
develop-outMnt  ^^.^'^  H"^'  t^t***  5^'**  ^  undertook  to 
Jides.  '^t-fc:;?^^  West 

a':^a'?Sf^eiS^^^-«'^  '  wasn't  iLlU]4  idJ°Sil? 

3a8 


AN  HOUR  OF  DEFEAT 

"I  remember  it  well  enough,"  replied  Gilgan.  "I  was 
one  of  the  men^  that  helped  you  to  ^et  your  Hyde  Park 
franchise.  You'd  never  have  got  it  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
me.  That  fellow  McKibben,"  added  Gilgan,  with  a 
grin,  "a  likelv  chap,  him.  He  always  walked  as  if 
he  had  on  rubber  ghoeg.  He'«  with  you  yet,  I  sup- 
pose? 

"Yes,  he's  around  here  someiw^ere,"  replied  Cowper- 
wood,  loftily.    "But  to  go  back  to  this  other  matter,  most 
of  the  men  that  are  behind  this  General  Electric  ordinance 
and  this   L   road  franchise  were  in  the  gas  business— 
Blackman,  Jules,  Baker,  Schryhart,  and  others— and  they 
are  angry  because  I  came  into  their  field,  and  angrier  srill 
because  they  had  eventually  to  buy  me  out.  They're 
angry  because  I  reorganized  these  old-fashioned  street- 
railway  companies  here  and  put  them  on  their  feet  Merrill 
IS  angiv  because  I  didn't  run  a  loop  around  his  store,  and 
the  others  are  angry  because  I  ever  got  a  loop  at  all. 
1  hey  re  all  angry  because  I  managed  to  step  in  and  do  the 
things  that  they  should  have  done  long  before.   I  came 
here— and  that  s  the  whole  story  in  a  nutshell.    I've  had 
to  have  the  city  council  with  me  to  be  able  to  do  anything 
at  all,  and  because  I  managed  to  make  k  ftiendly  and  keep 
it  so  they  ve  turned  on  me  in  that  secrion  and  gone  into 
gohtics.   I  know  weU  enough,  Mr.  Gilgan,"  concluded 


u       J  —        .     "«"««aw"icijf,  aim  1  lor  one 

don  t  begrudge  you  your  victory  m  the  least;  but  what  I 
WMt  to  know  now  is,  are;rou  going  to  help  them  carry  this 
hglit  on  a^iamst  me  m  this  way,  or  are  you  not?  Are  you 
gome  to  give  me  a  fighting  chance?  There's  going  to  be 
another  election  in  two  years.  Politics  isn't  a  bed  of  roses 
that  stays  made  just  because  you  make  it  once.  These 
tellows  that  you  have  got  in  with  are  a  crowd  of  silk  stock- 
ings. 1  hey  haven  t  any  sympathy  with  you  or  any  one 
like  vou.  They're  wdling  to  be  friendly  With  you  now- 
just  long  enough  to  get  something  out  of  you  and  club  me 
to  death.  But  after  that  how  long  do  you  think  they  wiU 
nave  any  use  for  you— how  long?'^  "wy  wm 

Not  very  long,  maybe,"  replied  Gilgan,  simply  and  cod. 

329 


THE  TITAN 

you  are  an  ambidou.  man:        ^I!  S=?^v"f- 

r ^'•^/fh-.S ^nte^?  Ta^S 
mategime  in  Chicago.   I v7b2«K„;M"  » 
street^ar  service.  1  don*?  SSSl  i^^*t"«  "P  ^" 
fifteen  minutes  bv  a  nVor.  ™*  *°       annoyed  every 

frat^je^tn^-p  i^j.F^^t^thr  ^^^^^^^^^^^  ^jj- 

wa.  not  inherently  favor^WrfoV  tL^  Jl^^^^^  conditioned, 
had  originally  mapp3^  out  for  him,!lf  "t^  Programme  he 

and  E/strom'^weiJ'ftieJdly  as^  Til"™*"' 

making  extravagant  demTn3!.'*^  'j°"..'  already 

who  hfd  been  lerbythTnewia^il^^^^^^ 

perwood  was  a  scoundrel  aJd  fn^l-       '^^''^V.^  '^^^^  ^ow 

manding  that  a  sSl v  mor,!  «  vile-werc  de^ 

all  the  doings  of  c?l^c^^^d^'h^"'"™?  ^'^^^^"^  *o  « 
deals  of  any  kind  KirSl?"  T  J^''*'  contracts,  or 

edge  of  the'^newrpape^^oF  ir'^^ff'  '^^5"" 

after  the  first  posVXtion  conf.^^  ^""^^  i.-^'^*^"'  «^ 

had  begun  to  fcel  thS ^'^  colleagues, 


AN  HOUR  OF  DEFEAT 

friends  the  moment  I've  won  a  victory  for  'em.  It's  not 
the  way  I've  been  used  to  playin'  politics.  There  may  be 
a  lot  of  truth  m  what  you  say.  Still,  a  man  can't  be  jump- 
m  aroimd  hke  a  cat  in  a  bag.  He  has  to  be  faithful  to 
■omebody  sometime."  Mr.  Gilgan  paused,  considerably 
BCMiDlussed  by  his  own  podtion. 

,  "Well,"  replied  Cowperwood,  sympathetically,  "think 
"  *  difficult  business,  this  business  of  politics. 

1mm  It,  for  one,  only  because  I  have  to  be.  If  you  act 
any  way  you  can  helo  me,  or  I  can  help  you,  let  me  know. 
In  the  mean  time  don't  take  in  bad  part  what  I've  just  said. 
1  m  m  the  position  of  a  man  with  his  back  to  the  wall. 
1  ni  fighung  for  mv  life.  NaturaUy,  I'm  going  to  fight. 
But  you  and  I  needn't  be  the  worse  friends  for  that.  We 
ma^  become  the  best  of  friends  yet." 

•  It's  well  I  know  that,"  said  Gilgan,  "and  it's  the  best 
ot  fnends  I  d  hke  to  be  with  you.  But  even  if  I  could 
take  care  of  the  aldermen,  which  I  couldn't  alone  as  yet, 
there  s  the  mayor.  I  don't  know  him  at  aU  except  to  say 
how-do-ye-do  now  and  then;  but  he's  very  much  opposed 
to  you,  as  I  understand  it.  He'll  be  running  around  most 
likely  and  talkmg  m  the  papers.  A  man  like  that  can  do 
a  eood  deal. 

•I  «nay  be  able  to  arrange  for  that,"  replied  Cowper- 
wood.    Perhaps  Mr.  Sluss  can  be  reached.    It  may  be 
'^'Jdl""  to  me  a«  he  thinks  he  is.  Yon 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

THB  NEW  AOMINirnunON 

make  it  exceedingly  unoL^^^^^^^  *  «°Vto 

in  ca*  he  were  t?  Wnfe  X  Chiffee 
wood's  enemies.    The  nrindn. I  ?  5?°'  of  Cowper- 

certain  Oaudia  Carlstfdr   J?  ^^air  was  a 

PMition,  and  a  sort  of /mni;:;  '''"''^'^'''''  'Jetecdve  by  di^ 
was  at  the  same'tS^^VS^hl?  p'^iSW-^^^^^ 
individual.    Needless  to  m v  Cow^™   j  u"**  expeiTenced 
these  minor  proceedinM^  thonaK  /  ""^^."^  knew  nothing  of 
the  beginning  hS^S?^  nod  fror.  in 

tresoass  in  this  respeVt  machineiy  of 

Cha^idJ^  of  the  Honorable 

yet  being  only  twf„t;!ScS  as  rStM^^^^^^  T'^^'^'  '""^"^  " 
cruel  as  only  the  avaS^and  u^.h'  ?  ''"'^  ""consdouslv 
m  in  the  larger  phifesoph  c  mea^"J^^^ 
To  grasp  the  reason  forWh^fnTn!  .J^'^"-*^*" 
see  the  spiritless  Soud,  Halsteal'<i?''  would  have  had  to 
she  had  sprune-oi^  of  fll^!l    •      '^^^  '^orf<*  ^om  which 
fnd  battered  Ke;:fe"tt^^^^  ^"^^S, 
beer-cans  and  shuttr«         '  o^  K  ^"^  '^tb 

youth  Claudia  had  b"  nTade  ?o  "'^'^l"  t'^^^^'  ^"  ^er 
sen  newspapers  at  the  corner Vf  H  7'''  the  growler,"  to 
streets,  and  "to  buy  cocaine  Tt  rh^  n  *'^.**  ^"^  "^•""^^n 
little  dresses  an/Scl?hii/haf  !f '^'^V'^"' 
poorwand  shabbiest  material-rn^^  "^Ju^"  been  of  the 
stockings  frequentir.|^^X^gP  her  r.^ged 

legs,  and  ber  shoes  Je^  worntd'SSd.^^^^^ 


THE  NEW  ADMINISTRATION 

and  mow  seep  through  in  winter.   Her  companions  were 
wretched  httle  street  boyt  of  her  own  neichborhood,  from 
whom  she  learned  to  swear  and  to  un'^erstand  and  in- 
dulge m  vile  practices,  though,  as  is  often  the  caw  with 
children,  she  was  not  utterly  depraved  thenby,  at  that. 
At  eleven,  when  her  mother  died,  she  ran  away  from 
the  wretched  children't  home  to  which  she  had  been  com- 
muted, and  by  putting  up  a  piteous  tale  she  was  liafw 
bored  on  the  West  Side  by  an  Irish  family  whose  two 
daughters  wer«  clerks  m  a  large  retail  store.    Through  these 
Uaudia  became  a  cash-girl.    Thereafter  followed  an  in- 
dividual career  as  Strang  and  checkered  as  anything  that 
had  gone  before.   Sufficient  to  say  that  Qaudia's  native 
intelhgence  was  considerable.   At  the  age  of  twenty  she 
had  managed— through  her  connections  with  the  son  of  a 
shoe  manufacturer  and  wMi  a  rich  jewder-to  amass  a 
Uttle  cash  and  an  extended  wardrobe.    It  was  then  that 
a  handsome  young  Western  Congressman,  newly  dccted, 
invited  her  to  Wafliington  to  take  a  position  in  a  sovero^ 
ment  bureau.   This  necessitated  a  knowledge  of  stenog- 
raphy and  typewriting,  which  she  soon  aconited.  Later 
she  was  mtroduced  by  a  WestMii  Senat<»r  b«>  that  form  of 
secret  service  which  has  no  connection  with  legitimate 
government,  but  which  is  profiuble.    She  was  us<^  to  ex- 
tract secrets  by  flatterv  and  cajolery  where  ordinary  bri- 
bery would  not  avail.  A  matter  of  tracing  the  secret  finan- 
cial connections  of  an  Illinois  Congressman  finally  brought 
ner  back  to  ChicaM,  and  her-  roung  Stimson  encountered 
ner.   trom  him  she  learned  of  the  political  and  financial 
conspiracy  agauist  Cowperwood,  and  was  in  an  odd  man- 
ner tascinated.    From  her  Congressmen  friends  she  already 
knew  som-u,  ng  of  Sluss.    Sdmson  indicated  that  it  would 
be  wortti  t  ,o  or  three  thousand  dollars  and  expenses  if 
the  mayor  were  successfully  compromised.    Thus  Claudia 
Carlstadt  was  gently  navigated  into  Mr.  Sluss's  glowing 

ThT^lkTk" «  "^^f        ^  of  accomplishment. 

I  hrough  thi  Hon.  Joe  Averv,  Marchbanks  secured  a  letter 
from  a  political  fifend  of  Mr.  Sluss  in  behalf  of  a  youni 

ranh?r''!?Pu''"ri'^  embarrassed,  a  competent  stenog! 
rapher,  and  the  hke-who  wished  a  place  under  the  am 

333 


THE  TITAN 

a  fetching  blacTsilk  of  a  JJSjfer^'h*'"         "  'J  " 

added  to  hT  c^saee    q^e  ^*^  ^'''l' 

young  .on,a"  X  had  acq,^«d  the  at' S'^'  .["B-Wmed 

of  the  Wachingu-^cJ^orte  Mr  ^^  ^?P«>ved  theoi^ 
once,  but  urcumspect^d  cai^J,-    T  ~ 

.mn«d„„fy  rec,  'led  de,  .11.  of  SLtlrSdi  SS. 

with  doth  top,  "hefX      „!,  1,"''""°",  '"-t  leather 

*Wl  white  smJhint  a,  ,L"k   i'^''  l*"*  ^'J 

gamet  b,>,to„"    thf -™  tif  ^  '  dark- 

yd  h«  yellow  anS  r^d"  ^       "I",?''  o-?^ 

fcoprfU  «idow,  even  if  «, .   endy  be^lT  ' 


Ti.E  NE  V  a  DMINISTRATICN 


"Let  Ott  see»"  mused  Mr.  Sluss,  '  vhere  are  you  living? 
Just  let  me  take  a  note  of  your  address.  This  is  a  very 
n  iftt'  n  .fr.  Barr>  Suppos  yoi  give  me  a  few 
<  lys  to  unk  what  I  can  dof  Tnis  is  rut.:.day.  Comen 
aj.  lia  on  Friday.    IH  tee  if  an3rthing  suggests  itself." 

He  stroll  i  '  ifh  her  to  he  official  door,  and  noted  that 
lier  step  w„s  li^ht  and  aprmgy.  At  pa  ting  ^e  turned  a 
very  'neltin^  yri.  up*^  fctm,  and  at  <mce  he  decided  that 
e  -Aoxi^i  t  iicr  something.  She  was  the  most 
fasv  1..  ng  ap    ;  .  «  diat  had  yet  appeared. 

The  d  ol  iffec  ayer  l^uss  was  not  ^  distant  after 
'his.  .  its.  -  a  'on  turned,  as  requeste>  er  costume 
nlivene.  fSis,  e  \  -ed-s  'iw  petticoat  yvu.Ja  contrived 
show  floi  <^  boieadi  tke  glistening 

ick        dcloti  skirt 

"Sa>  yov  -t  on  to  thai  observed  one  of  the  door- 
»en,  a  k^:ii.4mm,  /rom  the  previous  regime,  to  another  «f 

?  vintage.    "Some  style  to  tSe  i  w  adminyntni- 

t  n,  We're  not  so  slow,  do  you  thini^ 

He  ,>t.  d  his  coat  togedKr  ana  ftmi:^  at  his  collar 
to  giv  himself  an  air  of  smartness,  and  d  gaily  at  his 
parf^  both  of  them  over  sixty  and  c  specimens,  at 
that 

other  E^ed  him  in  the  stomaci  old  your 

ther    OM.    Not  so  fast.    We  ain'?  .        real  start 
Givi      anorher  six  months,  and  then        i  out." 
nIus  was  pieased  to  see  Mrs.  Bran  .ai.    He  had 
^    -cen  fo  }din  Basdenelli,  the  new  commissioner  of  taxes, 
se    rices  were  directly  over  the  way  on  the  same  hall, 
■  J  the  atter,  seeing  that  he  might  want  favors  of  the  mayor 
later  on,  had  vidubly  agreed  to  take  care  of  the  bdy. 

am  very  glad  to  be  .Me  to  give  you  this  letter  to  Mr. 
B    lenelli,"  commented  Ivir.  Sluss,  as  he  rang  for  a  steaog- 
'    ^i-r,  "not  only  for  the  sake  of  my  dd  frknd  Mr.  ibrry, 
or  yf)ur  own  as  well.    Do  you  iaKm  1^.  BaR|r  very 
?"  he  asked,  curiously. 

Only  slightly,"  admitted  Mrs.  Brandon,  feeling  diat 
Mi  Sluss  would  be  glad  to  know  she  was  not  very  intimate 
with  those  who  were  recommending  her.  "I  was  sent  to 
him  by  a  Mr.  Ameiman."  namtd  an  entiicb'  6cd- 

tmu  pcnonage.) 

335 


THE  TITAN 


Mr.  Sluss  was  reliereil     A.  l  1     .  . 
once  noR  .unrevKl  ^  H  handed  htr  tiw  not.  .1. 

|ooli»  L^Xp^i™  Ui'.r  ""H  'P'™»"t  over- 

I  am  pra^SSv         ^*T'>^-         would  be  » 
And  tfcatjooMr  than  you  «S  irk""''  l'"«ly 

■nIV  iA  »«  "Wtaoon.  -niCT 

1  ne  noiu-over  emfil  , 


THE  NEW  ADMINISTRATIO 


N 


cient  evidence  as  to  their  presence  at  hotels  and  restau- 
rants was  garnered  to  niake  out  a  damaging  case.  The 
whole  affair  took  about  four  months;  then  Mrs.  Brandon 
suddenly  received  an  offer  to  return  to  Washington,  and 
Z^i  J  ^P^'i-  The  letters  that  followed  hfr  were  a 
£ffil°I«  k  ^"V*""^*'  finally  assembled  in  Mr.  Stimson'i 
officeto  be  used  against  Mr.  Sluss  in  case  he  became  too 
obstreperous  in  his  oppoMtkm  to  Qmperwood. 

r^uHr^^^A  organizarion  which  Mr.  Gikan  had 

planned  with  Mr.  Tieman,  Mr.  Kerrigan,  and  MrjSstrom 

Sf^  °'^«  ?        temperaments  & 

k  ni  JL  L't*''"  sponsors,  no  franchises  of  any 

kmd  ij«  to  be  passed  unless  they  had  the  moral  aoprova^ 

fot^4Si.™°"'^         kind  wa.  to  be  p«d  to 
"Whaddye  think  of  those  damn  four-flushen  wad 

S,nTti"*^'l2!L^  "''"^"^  Kerrigan  of  M?lSu 
nan  shortly  subwouent  to  a  conference  5ith  Gilgan,  from 
which  Tiernan  had  been  unavoidably  absent.  ^The/i« 
£v^^°'i'T^l±''^  up  covering  the  whole  city  in  an 


dank  we  are,  anyw 


anybody.   Say,  windd/« 
how?  Heyr 

pJilli.  ^'t"!?  u  ^''"l**^*  conference  with 

r~J^  "'  il"**  investigations  led  him  to  believe  that 
te?t^"o^lll7"p"  of^Klemm,  a  clever  Tnd 

iS^f^tTfk  ^  *e  North  Side, 

J^s  to  be  the  leader  of  the  Republicans  in  councU,  and  that 

otZS"^-  ''V  r'^'^'  determined,  KciuS 

of  moral  prmaples  alone,  that  only  lioiieR  raeaauMa  dhaS 
Re  passed.    It  was  staggering.  ^ 


At  this  news  Mr.  Kerrigan,  who  had  been  calculating  on 
of  thousands  of  dollars  for  his  vote  on  vanout 


a  number  „.  „„„ 

occmnt,  stared  incredulously.    "Wen.'rif  be  dkiii^r 
he  commented.    "They've  got  a  nervel  W^tr^ 
i  ve  been  talking  to  this  fellow  Klamaof  the  mmML** 

337  '-^"i* 


THE  TITAN 


UlMrT 

met  him  V^e?  «'  '^T^^^y-    "Sa^,  he's  a  real  onef 
•hakes  hand/hkVatead  fisrm'  ^Hv^lr'i. 

I  m  ♦k^  «  _ 


•econdf'he  says" 

says 
way 

one  pass 


'Well        *i  **  ^* 

Its  suffiaentiv  rl*.ar*^k       ®         the  street-ran 

law,  haw,  hawr  "»*  »ai  8ekliii^,£^ 

f«"^  »"  a"  ^'  i™^!'^  °f  *««  hearty  aM.™«. 

»^  to  say  in  i,."  tSs  ain't  n^."  P"?''  '«  *«■>.  <C, 

to  mn  the  election.   Now  Lt -JIl  They  paid  i 

"Vol?- "?"t Teh"  "'^  "  P"«  off  a^!^'  ' 
„  ^°!!»-«».^t...echo«,W 


THE  NEW  ADMINISTRATION 

Leslie  MacDonald,  acting  through  Aldennan  Klemm  Dto- 
ceeded  to  make  a  count  of  noses,  and  found  to  Ws  ?sTo„?sT 
ment  that  he  was  not  as  strong  as  he  had  thougL  he  was 

^l^^du^^^'y  ^  ^"H^  ^^'"fr   A  number  of  aK 

men  with  cunous  names-Horback,  Fogarty,  McGran^ 
Sumulsky-showed  signs  of  being  tampered  ^th  He 

i?th  Ajf^r"'  '°  Hand,  SchrvLrt,  a^d  AmS 

with  this  disconcertmg  mformation.  They  had  beenro^ 
gratuJatmg  themselves  that  the  recent  Vlctonr  if  it  rl 
suited  m  nothing  else,  would  at  least  pSS^a  blinkS 

hi.  r'**  f^'^^^^J^*  and  that  this  woJSd  be  suffid«t  2 
bring  Cowperwood  to  his  knees.  •umaeui  to 

forTZn'"^^  MacDonald's  message  Hand  sen.  at  once 
tor  C^ilgan.   When  he  mquired  as  to  how  soon  a  votrmi 

to7h^m«su«""'  '''^  '^tok.r.  dSS^S 
"What's  thatr  said  Hand,  a  little  savaeelv  "EKdnV 
we  make  a  plain  bargain  in  ^gard  to  thL?^  ?^ou  aU 
the  money  you  asked  for,  didn't  you?  You  said  you  could 
^o^'IS'n^'"'^-'"'  •'^rS  ^  would  vote  asVJ^^g'^^ 
"nLT-  fT*     8S>ck  on  your  bafgaio,  are  yoSr 

of  4 

Reoubhcan  aldennen,  and  that  I  dkS't^'^'e™ 

boJv  and  soul.    I  didn't  name  'em  in  evenr^Tse  Tmad" 

bSt  chTii.'**'7r  ^'^^  that  had  ?he 

btst  chance,  and  that  the  people  wanted.    I'm  not  resoon- 
sible  for_any  crooked  work  that'.  «»oin»  «n  k.i.:«j 


«ble  for  an;  c;;^.k3^v;;^^^:  bihinnrS 

they're  no??'' °'  "^"^  ^         ~*  ""V 
Mr.  Gilgan's  face  was  an  a    '  ' 
out  you  had  the  picking 
Hand,  aggressively.  '^Every 
sona!  mdorsement.   You  mad( 


^But^vS"hJ*2  was  «  a^eved  question^rk. 
But  you  had  the  mcbng  ^  tliew  men,"  insisted  Mr. 

.    -   „    ^ery  one  of  them  had  your  per- 

 lorsement.   You  made  the  deals  with  them  Ymi 

£  aLi^iSL&S^  TherelS?J 
SiTiSttf"^  P»«  «  to  what  they 

^dwcidttido.  Tl»newspapwlMiv,b.anfiiaofS 

319 


THE  TITAN 

body.   Sure  I  selecteS         ^  P"^^.**'  honesty  of  every 

can.  and  some  of  the^mocrafs    I  ^*^P"Wi 

terms  I  could-to  pick  the  m^n  .'k    ^""^  f*'  ^he  besi 

I  can  find  out  mos^of ^'"v  far  a. 

for  Cowperwood.    It's  ZslJ^^  ri  ff^  T  '°  ^"i''*""? 

surveyed  C  cSiith       -"^""^^^^^  blue  eyei 

anvh^r  he  .^ired  '  "rd&  ^? 

Mr  Giigan,  safe  in  k.c  ^  ''st  of  them  " 

toll  of  the^SpJ^L"  e^^^^^^^^^  -a,dy  ^th  a 

own  battle..  Mr.  Hand  wiSL«  .Y?"  *«> 
wg  meanwhile  to  brinrpressi™  determin- 
to  watch  Mr.  GiLran    ff  rS. "    ?  decided  also 

•«  the  program„;?S;  nit  S^Sei  °.hn  fiT^'°.     =  '"''^ 
commanded  to  th  under  ann^i  i      o  '1^°™^'' 
as  proved  unfaithful TthJ'^STfru^-  ^^^^  ^^^rmen 
should  be  smoked  out,  follovSd  L/t  .  ""l^^'*^  °"  '^em 
Jf^.  ejected  them,  and  «S  '^"^  ^"^^  ^^ich 

behind  them.   Their  namM^M  k  ^''?„P««P'e  who  were 
press.    The  customa^^  ^n's  C^^^^ 
and  tnckery  should  b'redouUV  ^'^P*"^'*  deviltiy 

y^rrii^kt^ni^  Avery,  McKibben, 

separately'upo„Tri^u7^„^"J^^^^^ 

temperanjeniJlly  and  chSX  3!/^^ 

idea-and  making  them  3e«rin/;k    -7'?  reform 

«  possible  to  refrain  fr^^^'^s^'""!'''" 

measures  for  the  next  mo  vea«Ti;"*  »«'-9>wperwood 

an  annual  salary  of  twoA^^^IS  i  n°""'  «hape  of 

other  form-p„haDra^.M  °^  »       «»  aome 

pth  a  guarantee  that  the  general  nnKP  "  k'°TJ"«' 


THE  NEW  ADMINISTRATION 
apart  from  the  ten  regular  Democrats  who,  because  of 
McKenty  and  his  inHuence.  could  be  counted  u^^i-had 
been  already  subomed  Although  Schiyhart,  iSnd.  and 
A«eel  d,d  not  know  .t.  their  olans-even  as  they  pSS^- 
were  bemg  thus  undermmed,  and,  try  as  thev  wouldth^ 

eTud3'them"Th  ^  "^^^^^  SfanchilLV^iit-d/ 
riJl  hi?.  »Vk    7  ^'l*^  themselves  for  tl^ 

STwff        ^  ^""^^'r      =  "L"  road  line  on 

the  South  Side  in  Schryhart's  own  territory,  and  with  a 
franchise  to  the  Generaf  Electric  covering  oSly  one^i?,,^ 
portant  Ime,  which  it  would  be  easy  for  GW^SoSd^ 
he  cootmued  m  iKmer,  to  take  ow  «t  iomc  U«?Sr 


CHAPTER  XL 

A  TRIP  TO  LOUISVILLE 


railway  enterprisis  he  hl^  -"^"^'"8  his  Chicago  stree? 

waspesiden^ofSUake  atvVa^°''  1'^^  when^Addiron 
his  cW  source  of  supply    Af!1^'°''I^i1'^  that  bank  « 

of  th/r^^**  fr^^  thfS^I^^i;'^^  Addison  had 

of  the  Chicago  Trust  Companl  CnZ  f'*"'"^  chaige 

n  having  t£e  latter  dTsS^d  11^'''^°°**  »"«^«eded 
in  induang  a  number  of  S  k  l  '  "Z^^"'  ^serve  and 
deposits  in  its  vault^.    HoSUi'r  H^P  ^^^^ir  speda! 

etef  a^rS:^^^^^^^  Th-i  t 

pntrol  of  the  othJr  ceiJ^.L"'"*"         influentia"  th! 

depoy^wkh  dr'aLl'V^^Vf       ~"n^  bank" 
Juced  to  withdraw  beSu  J  J™"  Company  had 

h.f  r?      P='»°n»Kty  which  S  J^  •>« '"countered 

--r-ry^^-i^-tt,  ow^   had  ^ 


A  TRIP  TO  LOUISVILLE 

he  did  business,  and  among  these  in  Louisvffle.  Kentuckv 
he  encountered  a  certain  Cof.  Natlianiel  GilhvSiy  wedthv 

wood,  he  found  pleasure,  duS  ?hf  brief  „erL»  u 
wife  of  two  of  my  best  friends  hoA  v2i J      j  l 

r  " men— a  sort  of  bounding  collie  inJ  i>k. 

I.ted  to  humor  those  who  could  be  of  ui  »  K  Ijrf 
It  sounds  mtereniiig  to  me.  Certainlv  lTlLf*T?S 

Cowperwood  arose. 
Take  me  there,"  he  raid. 

seeinJ?^l^?'"^  on  which  he  wai 

wa  Ifri    ^'T^  <Jay  to  comp  ete  TheVe 

lndlll"*n       after  « <livorce,  Mrs.  Ira  Georee  Cartel 

pTr^Z^  /l/Z'^  °[  '^^"se  of     repute  Cow! 

343 


THE  TITAN 

told  him  about,  one  a  girl  by  her  first  marriage,  Berenice 
Ftenune*  who  was  away  in  a  New  York  boarding-school, 
the  other  a  boy,  Rolfe  Carter,  who  was  in  a  niilitafy 
school  for  boys  somewhere  in  the  West. 

"That  daughter  of  hers,"  observed  the  Colonel,  "is  a 
chip  of  the  old  block,  unless  I  miss  my  guess.  I  only  saw 
her  two  or  three  times  a  few  years  ago  when  I  was  'down 
East  at  her  mother's  summer  home;  but  she  struck  me 
as  haying  great  charm  even  for  a  eirl  of  ten.  She's  a  lady 
born,  if  ever  there  was  one.  How  her  mother  is  to  keep  her 
straight,  living  at  she  does,  is  more  than  I  know.  How 
she  keeps  her  in  that  school  is  a  mystery.  There's  apt  to 
be  a  scandal  here  at  any  time.  I'm  very  sure  the  girl  doesn't 
know  anything  about  her  mother's  business.  She  never 
lets  her  come  out  here." 

««'rP*""K*  Cowperwood  thought  to  himself. 

What  a  pleatmt  name,  and  what  a  peculiar  handicap  in 
ufe. 

II How  old  is  the  daughter  now?"  he  inquired. 

^Mi,  sIm  must  be  about  fifteen— not  more  than  that" 

When  they  reached  the  house,  which  was  located  in 
a  rather  somber,  treeless  street,  Cowperwood  was  sur- 
prised to  find  the  interior  tpadout  and  tastefully  finw 
nished.  Presently  Mrs.  Carter,  as  she  was  generally  known 
m  society,  or  Hatrie  Starr,  as  she  was  known  to  a  lew 
satisfying  world,  appeared.  Cowperwood  miUied  at  once 
that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a  woman  who,  whatever 
her  present  occupation,  was  not  without  marked  evidences 
of  refinement.  She  was  exceedingly  intelligent,  if  not 
highly  intellectual,  tri^  vivacious,  anything  but  common- 
pface.  A  certain  spirited  undulation  in  her  walk,  a 
seeming  gay,  frank  in  iifFerence  to  her  position  in  life,  an 
obvious  accustomedness  to  polite  surroundings  took  his 
fancy.  Her  hair  was  built  up  in  a  loose  Frenchy  way, 
after  the  fashion  of  the  empire,  and  her  che'iks  were  slightly 
mottled  with  red  veins.  Her  color  was  too  r-igh,  and  yet  it 
W3«  not  utterly  unbecoming.  She  had  friendly  gray-blue 
e>;es,  which  went  well  with  her  lieht-brown  hair;  along 
with  a  pink  flowered  house-gown,  which  became  her  fuUing 
figure,  she  wore  pearls. 

"The  widow  m  two  husbands,"  thot^t  Cbwpmwa^ 

344 


A  TRIP  TO  LOUISVILLE 

"the  mother  of  two  children!"  With  the  Colonel's  easy 
introduction  began  a  lisht  conversation.  Mrs.  Carter 
gracefully  persisted  that  the  had  known  of  Cowpenrood  for 
some  time.  His  strenuous  stceeiHaihray  i^mratioiia  wen 
more  or  less  familiar  to  her. 

"It  would  be  nice,"  she  suggested,  "since  Mr.  Cowpcfw 
wood  is  here,  if  we  invited  Grace  Deming  to  call." 

The  latter  was  a  favorite  of  the  Colonel's. 

"I  would  be  very  |^d  if  I  could  talk  to  Mri.  Carter," 
gallantly  volunteered  Cowperwood — he  scarcely  knew  why. 
He  was  curious  to  learn  more  of  her  history.  On  subse- 
quent occasions,  and  in  more  extended  cMiversatkm  widi 
the  Colonel,  it  was  retailed  to  him  in  full. 

Nannie  Hedden,  or  Mrs.  John  Alexander  Fleming,  or 
Mrs.  Ira  George  Carter,  or  flattie  Starr,  was  by  birth  a 
descendant  of  a  lone  line  of  Virginia  and  Kentucky  Heddens 
and  Colters,  related  in  a  definite  or  vague  way  to  half  the 
aristocracy  of  four  or  five  of  the  surrounding  states.  Now, 
although  still  a  woman  of  brilliant  parts,  she  was  the 
keeper  of  a  select  house  of  assignation  in  this  meager  city 
of  perhaps  two  hundred  thousand  populadcm.  How  had 
it  happened?  ^  How  could  it  possibly  have  come  about? 
She  had  been  in  Iwr  day  a  reigninc  beauty.  She  had  been 
bom  to  money  and  had  married  money.  Her  first  hus- 
band, John  Alexander  Fleming,  who  had  inherited  wealth, 
tastes,  privileges,  and  vicn  from  a  kmc  line  slave-hold- 
ing, tobacco-growing  Flemings,  was  a  charming  man  of  the 
Kentucky-Virginia  society  type.  He  had  been  trained  in 
the  law  with  a  view  to  cnterinc  the  diplomatic  service, 
but,  being  an  idler  by  nature,  had  never  done  so.  In- 
stead, horse-raising,  horse-racing,  philandering,  dancing 
hunting,  and  the  like,  had  taken  up  his  time.  When 
their  wedding  took  place  the  Kentucky-Virginia  society 
world  considered  it  a  great  match.  There  was  wealth 
on  both  sides.  Then  came  much  more  of  that  idle  social 
whirl  which  had  produced  the  marriage.  Even  philan- 
derings  of  a  very  vital  character  were  not  barred,  though 
deception,  in  some  decree  at  least,  would  be  ntcn 
sary.  As  a  natural  result  there  followed  the  appearance 
in  the  mountains  of  North  Carolina  during  a  diarmiiw 
autumn  outing  of  a  fajr  ymmg  ipadc  hy  tlM  auwof 

HS 


^1 


I 


-4i  Ui 


THE  TITAN 

wliS  p!""-^'       ''^^  *>««owaI  on  him  by  the  bfaudfiil 

called-of  her  tempo- 
52L-  ^*i"°"''.r  ?T**  ^«  S"»ck  to  report  whaj 

Fleming  bmself  did  not  see,  and  Fleming,  mui  thaThe 

l!^!*  Mr.  Tanner  on  a  high  moun- 

tarn  road  one  evenmg,  said  to  him,  "You  get  out  of 

tte  momme.    Tucker  Tanner,  realizing  that  however 

£  k  ""^ "  ''J^  !^»^f.'-"e<J  chivJry  of  the  South 
might  be.  the  end  would  be  Qlets  just  the  same,  departed. 

^'^^  *>"t  unrepentant,  considered  her- 
self greatly  abusea.   There  was  much  scandal.   Then  came 

StT*^""^^**"  ^  divorce  Mr 

hu^tU    f  not  appear  to  claim  his  damaged  love, 

d^w^U  i?',^^ George  Carter,  a  penniliss  ne'er^ 
generation  and  social  standing,  oflFered 
hJ^„*"'*k?5*  By  *e  first  marriage  tW  had 

oM  'i*'  'Children  were 

?li!T5**  ^°  i^P^  %^  importance  of 

affection  for  them,  had  squandered, 

mi^t^  Z^"a^  **if' Wickham  HefdeS! 
baS^f ^I'  dissipation  on  the  hus- 

band  8  side,  and  finally  his  death,  came  the  approach  of 
povertv.  Mrs^  Carter  was  not  practical,  and  Sf  paiSo^ 
ate  and  mclmed  to  dmipadon.  Howeve^,  the  aimliSs,  fatui 
ous  going  to  p,«:es  of  Ira  George  Carter,  die  looming  i»d»^ 
of  the  future  of  the  children,  and  a  growing  senseyaflS 
ofTove"i?l£rS'*"^  S"^J'y  ^»>«red*her.  The  hlS 
of^Zl-^a^i'^^  disappeared,  but  her  chance 

ATSSfli  itiS"******  possessing  somi  beauty, 

SfriS^  ^  "      '^f  ^"f provided  for  the  un- 

ISJl  lnVn    k-  f  T        V  °f  neglected 

Si  panahs  of  society  fall  and  on  which 

£J  "5  f^""y  comment.    Neglected  by 

i^L^*    '  A«  respectable,  her  fortune  guiti 

E  ,  'k!  t  "^^^  neverthekM  determined  that  she  would  not 
tSi^tmif^"'^-  *  Jt^ontr  upon  the  bounty 
of  <|iioBdam  ihendt.  By  insensible  depvet  cum  6m  a»- 

346 


A  TRIP  TO  LOUISVILLE 

hallowed  reladonsMpt  through  friendthip  and  passing 
won.  then  a  cunous  intermediate  state  between  the  hieh 
world  of  fashion  and  the  half  world  of  harlotry,  until,  final- 
ly, in  Louisville,  she  had  become,  not  openly,  but  actually, 
the  mistress  of  a  house  of  ill  repute.  Men  who  knew  how 
these  things  were  done,  and  who  were  consulting  their  own 
convenience  far  more  than  her  welfare,  suggested  the  ad- 
visability of  It.  Three  or  four  friends  like  Colonel  Gillis 
wished  rooms-^venient  place  in  which  to  loaf,  gamble, 
and  bnng  their  women.  Hattie  Starr  was  her  nam  now, 
and  as  such  she  had  even  become  known  in  a  vague  way  to 
the  police— but  only  vaguely— as  a  woman  whose  home  was 
suspiciously  gay  on  occasions. 

Cowperwopd,  with  his  appetite  for  the  wonders  of  life, 
hu  appreaation  of  the  dramas  which  produce  either  failure 
or  success,  could  not  help  being  interested  in  this  spoiled 

C?Zl''i  r^?-  ™  "^l?^**  \^^y  the  seas  of  chance. 
J^lonel  Gilhs  once  aaid  that  with  some  strong  man  to  back 
her,  Nannie  Hemmg  could  be  put  back  into  society.  She 
had  a  pleasant  appeal— she  and  her  two  children,  of  whom 
she  never  .poke.  After  a  few  visits  to  her  home  Cow- 
perwood  spent  hours  talking  with  Mrs.  Carter  when- 
ever he  was  in  Louisville.  On  one  occasion,  as  they 
r/'Lr?""?  her  boudoir,  she  picked  uo  a  photograph 
ot  her  daughter  from  the  dresser  and  dropped  it  into 
a  drawer.    Cowperwood  had  never  seen  this  picture  be- 

in»W„^  ?     t"^  ^'  Yet,  with  that 

l.!?^^-     u*'  and  vital  which  invariably  pos- 

sessed him,  he  gained  a  keen  imprettton  of  h.  It  wat  ofa 
delicately  ha^ar J  child  with  a  marvdously  a^eeablJ 
smile,  a  fine,  high-poised  head  upon  a  thin  neck,  and  an 
air  of  bored  supenonty.  Combined  with  this  was  a  touch 
ot  weanness  about  the  eyelids  which  drooped  in  a  lofty 
way    Cowperwood  was  faadnated.    Because  of  the  daugh- 

did  not^fcfr**^  "*      "  ^  ^  '^y 

tion  hl'^^k*'!?-  ^^"""P^'^  was  moved  to  definite  ac- 
L^Ci«Jni.   f  ^^'s^o^^jy       3  photographer',  window  m 
l^  ^  ii'^r^^  Pt«ure  of  Berenice-a  rather  large 
wiuch  Mn.  Carter  had  had  enlarged  from  a  print 

347 


THE  TITAN 


Mot  her  by  her  daughter  wme  tune  before.  Berenice  wu 
^ujg  rather  m^ifferently  posed  at  the  comer  0^ 

LT/'*^  '  "iT  outing-hat  held  negligently 

in  am  hand,  one  hip  sunk  lower  than  the  other,  a  iWnt 
dittive  SRule  playing  dimly  around  her  mouth  the  smile 
wa.  really  not  a  smTle,  but  only  the  wraith  of  one^  and™  e 
eye.  were  wide,  di.ing«i»oitt.Vnock-dmple.  The  dcturc 
^.ue«f«t,s.mpl.c.tv,  appealed  to>im/He  didno'I  K 
I^^J^l^'^n  n«ver  sanctioned  its  display.  "A 
'^as  Cowperwood's  comment  to  himself,  and 
b  photographer's  office  to  see  wT^Tt  Vdd 

ofatlr^ A  ^lifj!"  rTYl  destruction  of  the 

plates.  A  half^undred  dollars,  he  found,  would  arrance 
It  all-plates,  pnnts,  eveiything.    Since  bydh"  ruw^G 

h^nt  /t*^  Pn>mptly  yd  t  f^ 

aad  hung  in  his  Chicaw  roonu,  where  sometimet  ofw 
afternoon  when  he  was  Tiunying  to  changehSdothM  S 
.topped  to  ook  at  it.  VVitlT ^alh  succeeTng  Jx^mSSii. 
his  admiration  and  curiosity  grew.   Here  wfs^S^STK 

^^li^rsss  high-borE*iTdy?th: 


iJmi  A"  chancing  to  be  in 

Louisville,  he  discovered  Mrs.  Carter  in  a  venT^i^ 
social  condition.    Her  affair,  had  recdved  7^v^^ 

abk  orotSf.?'"  Hagenback.  a  citizen  of  conside  - 

able  prominence,  had  died  m  her  home  under  peculiar  ci  - 

of  Stt  h*  7!^r  S","^^  L«mgton.  A.  a  matter 
hi.  very  little  time  there,  and  at  the  time  of 

eice  ^th  /  leading  a  pleaaurable  exist- 

ZZ7!1m  Trent,  an  actreM,  whom  he  had  intro- 

ilk!i~  5*"-  The  police,  through  a 

Pictire?nfT-^  coroner,  were  made  awarrof  ail  the  ffcts. 
nctures  of  Miss  Trent,  Mrs.  Carter,  Major  Haeenback 

b«T±J"^  c^nceiing  SfS!  Car: 

ter  s  home  were  about  to  appear  in  the  papers  wlien  Colonel 
^^:^°trJ^^  were  powerful  soSaGv  and^ih^ 

hushed  up,  but  Mrs.  Carter  was 
m  amnn.    inu  was  more  than  she  had  batxained  for. 

348 


A  TRIP  TO  LOUISVILLE 

Her  quondam  friends  were  frightened  away  for  t  ^e  nonce. 
She  herself  had  lost  courage.  When  Cowperwooa  saw  her 
she  had  been  in  dw  my  human  act  t^crymg,  and  her  cyet 
were  red. 

"Well,  well,"  he  commented,  on  seeing  her— she  was  in 
moody  gray  in  the  bugain— *'ymi  don't  mean  to  tdl  me 
you're  worrying  about  anything,  are  you?" 

**0h,  Mr.  owperwood,"  she  explamed,  pathetically,  "I 
have  had  so  much  trouble  since  I  3aw  you.  You  heard  of 
Major  Hagenback's  death,  didn't  you?"  Cowperwood, 
who  had  heard  something  of  the  story  from  Colonel  Gillis, 
nodded.  "Well,  I  have  just  been  notified  by  die  pdice 
that  I  will  hav^e  to  move,  and  the  landlord  was  giveiMBe 
notice,  too.    If  it  iust  weren't  for  my  two  children — •** 

She  dabbed  at  her  eyes  pathetically. 

Cowperwood  meditated  mterestedly. 

"Haven't  you  any  place ^ou  can  go?"  he  asked. 
^  "I  have  a  summer  place  m  PennsWvania,"  she  confessed; 
"but  . I  can't  go  there  very  well  in  February.    Berides,  it's 
my  livins  I'n^  worrying  about.   I  have  only  this  to  de- 
pend on. 

She  waved  her  hinJ  12 ;  lusively  toward  the  various  rooms. 
"DcMi't  you  own  t'*  -  ol  ne  in  Pennsj^vaniaP"  he  in- 
quired. 

"Yes,  but  it  isn't  -.  n  much,  and  I  couldn't  jell  it. 
I've  been  trying  to  do  »hat  Mvhaw  for  some  ttm.e,  becaoae 
Berenice  is  gettmg  tired  of  it. 

"And  haven't  you  any  money  laid  away?" 

''It's  taken  all  I  have  to  run  frface  and  keep'  the 
children  in  school.  I've  been  trying  to  g?ve  Berenioe  toad 
Rolfe  a  chance  to  do  som  : 'ine  for  thei  iselve*-.'' 

At  the  repetition  of  Bereniv-e  s  name  Cowperwood  con- 
sulted his  own  interest  or  loood  in  the  matter.    A  little 
assistance  for  her  would  not  bother  him  much.  Besides, 
ir  '.vould  probaUy  eveaoiaBy  Iwing  alMMit  a  OMetn^ 
the  daughter. 

,  "Why  don't  you  clear  out  of  this  "  he  observed,  finally. 
'It's  no  business  to  be  in,  anyhow,  if  you  have  any  regard 
for  your  children.  They  can't  survive  anything  hke  this. 
You  want  to  put  your  daughter  back  in  society,  don't 
you?" 

349 


THE  TITAN 
"Oh  ytn,"  almost  pleaded  Mrs.  Carter. 


Precisely,  commented  Cowperwood,  who,  when  k 
was  thmkmg,  almost  invariably  dropped  into  a  short,  oold 
curt,  busineM  manner.  Yet  he  was  humanely  mdiiied  ii 
aus  innance. 

"Well,  thon,  why  not  live  in  your  Pennsylvania  place 
for  the  present,  or,  if  not  that,  go  to  New  York?  You  can'i 
•tay  here.  Ship  or  sell  these  things."  He  waved  a  han( 
toward  the  rooms. 

"I  would  only  too  gladly,"  replied  Mrs.  Carter,  "if  ] 
knew  what  to  do." 

"Take  my  advice  and  go  to  New  York  for  the  present 
You  wUl  get  nd  of  your  expenses  here,  and  I  will  help  yoi 
with  the  rest-->for  the  present,  anyhow.  You  can  get  a 
start  agam.  It  is  too  bad  about  these  children  of  your* 
1  will  take  care  of  the  bov  as  soon  as  he  is  old  enough.  As 
for  Berenice  —he  used  her  name  softl3r-"if  she  can  stay 
m  her  school  until  she  is  nineteen  or  twenty  the  chanc(» 
are  that  she  will  make  social  connections  which  wiU  save 
her  nicely.  The  thinp  for  you  to  do  is  to  avoid  meeting 
any  of  this  old  crowd  out  here  in  the  future  if  you  caiu 
It  might  be  advisable  to  take  her  abroad  for  a  time  after 
she  leaves  school. 

'j^  ^Hl"  ''•8^*^        Carter,  rather  lamely. 

Well,  do  what  I  suggest  now,  and  we  will  see,"  observed 
Cowperwood.  It  would  be  a  pity  if  your  two  duldieif 
were  to  have  their  ives  ruined  by  such  an  accident  as  this." 

Mrs.  Carter,  realizing  that  here,  in  the  shape  of  Cowper- 
wood, If  he  chose  to  be  f^erous,  was  the  open  way  out  of 
a  lowermg  dungeon  of  misery,  was  inclined  to  give  "ent  to 
a  bit  of  grateful  emotion,  but,  finding  him  subtly  remote, 
restrained  herself.  His  manner,  wlHle  warmly  generous 
at  umes,  was  also  easUy  distant,  except  when  he  wished, 
Ui^lSr*'^'w  hjF.was  thinking  of  the  high 

•oul  of  Berenice  Fleming  and  of  its  poestUe  ^Oue  to  Jan. 


CHAPTER  XLI 
THB  nAUGmnm  or  mt.  ruimo 

BERENICT  FLE^G.  at  the  time  O>wperwood  fim  en- 
countered her  mother,  was  an  inmate  of  the  Misses  Brew- 
ster s  School  for  Girls,  then  on  Riverside  Drive,  New  York, 
and  one  of  the  most  exclusive  estabtidinientf  of  its  kind  in 
America.  The  soaal  prestige  and  connections  of  the  Red- 
dens, Hemmgs,  and  Carters  were  sufficient  to  gain  her  this 
introduction,  though  the  social  fertunet  of  her  mother  were 
already  at  this  time  on  the  down  grade.  A  tall  girl,  deli- 
cately hajggard,  as  he  had  imagined  her,  with  reddiih- 
bronze  hair  of  a  tmge  but  distantly  allied  to  that  of  Aileen's, 
she  was  unlike  any  woman  Cbwperwood  had  ever  known, 
tven  at  seventeoj  she  stood  up  and  out  with  an  inexplicable 
supenonty  which  brought  her  the  Imish  and  exotic  at- 
tention  of  lesser  personalities  whose  emotional  aninudtty 
found  an  outlet  in  swinging  a  censer  at  her  shrine. 

A  strange  maiden,  deddediyl  Even  at  this  age,  when 
-^he  was,  as  one  might  suppoae,  m  men  slip  of  a  giri,  she  was 
deeply  conscious  of  herself,  her  sex,  her  significance,  her 
possible  social  import.  Armed  with  a  fm  a  few 
freckles,  an  almost  too  high  color  at  times,  strange,  deep, 
night-blue,  cat-hke  eyes,  a  long  nose,  a  rather  plearant 
mouth,  perfect  teeth,  and  a  really  good  chin,  she  moved 
always  with  a  feline  grace  that  was  careless,  superior, 
sinuous,  and  yet  the  acme  of  harmony  and  a  rhythmic 
How  of  lines.  One  of  her  mess-hall  tricks,  when  unobieivcd 
by  her  instructors,  wai  to  walk  with  six  plates  and  a  water- 
pitcher  all  graceftiRjr  pdted  on  the  top  of  her  head  after 
the  fashion  of  the  Asiatic  and  the  African,  her  hips  moving, 
her  shoulders,  neck,  and  head  still.  Giris  begged  weeks  on 
end  to  have  her  reoeat  this  "stunt,"  as  they  caUed  it. 
Another  was  to  puthtr  arms  behind  her  and  witli  t  mall 

351 


THE  TITAN 

imitate  the  Wbged  Victory.  •  copy  of  which  graced  the 
ubrary  hall. 

"You  know,"  one  little  rosy-cheeked  satellite  used  to 
urge  on  her,  adoringly,  "she  muK  have  been  likt  you. 
Her  head  must  have  been  like  yous.  Y«i  an  Mtr 
when  you  do  it.  ^ 

For  answer  Berenice's  deep,  dmoat  Uack-btiie  eyes 
turned  on  her  admirer  with  solemn  unflattered  considera- 
tton.   bhe  awed  always  by  the  something  that  she  did  not 

••^^1  noble  dames  who  presided  over 

it-solenui,  mocpenenced  owl-like  conventionalists  who  in- 
sisted on  the  last  tittle  and  jot  of  order  and  piocedui^- 
was  a  loke  to  Berenice.  She  recognized  the  value  of  its 
•oaal  import,  but  even  at  fifteen  and  sixteen  she  was  su- 
perior to  It.  She  was  superior  to  her  superiors  and  to  the 
specimens  of  maidenhood— supposed  to  be  perfect  socially 
-who  gathered  about  to  hear  her  talk,  to  hear  her  tinb 
declaim,  or  imitate.    She  was  deeply,  dramatically,  uimmK 

SiJSJiilJk'  ""^^l^       P«"on=«*y  in  itilfTSt^ 
coonected  with  any  mhented  soaal  standing,  but  of  its  in- 
lUte  worth,  and  of  the  artistry  and  wonder  of  her  body. 
One  of  her  chief  delights  was  to  walk  alone  in  her  room 
pometimes  at  night,  the  lamp  out,  the  moon  perhaps 
faintly  illuminating  her  chamber-and  to  pose  and  survw 
ner  body,  and  dance  m  some  naive,  gracefufaiiy  Greek  way 
adaace  that  was  smgulariy  free  from  sex-consdousnesfr-and 
wt  was  It  f   She  was  conscious  of  her  bodr— of  every  inch 
ofit— under       ivory-white  clothes  which  she  frequently 
jwre.  Oice  she  wrote  m  a  aeciet  diary  which  she  main- 
"iS?   T^'"?^"*""       »mp"lse  or  an  afFecution,  as  you  will: 
My  skm  IS  so  wonderful.   It  tingles  so  with  rich  life.  I 
kI!i"  ^  "^l  underneath.   I  love  my 

^nds  and  my  hair  and  my  eyet.  My  hands  are  long  and 
tfitn  and  delicate;  my  eyes  are  a  dark,  deep  blue*  my 
hair  IS  a  brown,  rusty  red,  thick  and  sleepy.   My  long, 

I  toUltfe'r 

♦JliTS?^  ^'f^*  "^^"'^^  Berenice  Fleming  senraous— 
tbou^ihe  was— because  she  was  self-controlled.  Her 
•yM  bed  to  you.   They  hed  to  all  the  world.   They  looked 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  MRS.  FLEM IN6 

you  through  and  through  with  a  calm  savoir  fairer  a  mock- 
defiance,  i^ich  said  with  a  faint  curi  of  the  lips,  barely 
suggested  to  help  them  out,  "You  cannot  read  me,  vou  can- 
not read  me."  She  put  her  head  to  one  side,  snfied,  lied 
(by  iM|iiiritinn)i  ammied  that  there  was  nothing.  And 
there  was  nothing,  as  yet.  Yet  there  was  somBthing,  too— 
her  inmost  convicticms,  and  these  die  took  (ood  am  te 
conceal.  The  worid— how  little  it  shoidd  cmff»  ever  iBwirl 
How  little  it  ever  could  know  truly! 

The  first  time  Cowperwood  encountered  Ons  Circe 
daughter  of  so  unfortunate  a  mother  was  on  the  occasion 
of  a  trip  to  New  York,  die  second  foUowin|  his  in- 

troduction to  Mrs.  Carter  in  Loutsyioe.  Betenioe  wm 
taking  some  part  in  the  closing  exercises  of  the  Brewster 
Schod,  and  Mrs.  Carter,  with  Cowperwood  for  an  ftmrt, 
decided  to  so  East.  Cowperwood  having  locaM  nini- 
self  at  the  Netherlands,  and  Mrs.  Carter  at  the  much 
humbler  Gttaokkt,  they  jouim^ed  together  to  visit  due 
paragon  whose  picture  m  Ind  bad  hangii^  in  his  looait 
in  Chicago  for  months  past.  When  they  were  intro- 
duced into  the  somendiat  somber  reception  parior  of 
the  Brewster  Sdiool,  Berenice  came  slipping  in  after  a 
few  moments,  a  noiseless  figure  of  a  giri,  tall  and  slim, 
and  ddidously  sinuous.  Cowperwood  saw  at  first  diance 
that  she  fulfilled  all  the  promise  of  her  pictuie,  and  was 
delighted.  She  had,  he  thought,  a  strange,  shrewd,  in- 
telligent smile,  which,  however,  was  giriish  and  friendly. 
Widbut  so  much  as  a  glance  in  his  direcdcm  die  came  for- 
ward, extending  her  arms  and  hands  in  an  inimitable  his- 
trionic manner,  and  exclaimed,  mth  a  practised  and  yet 
natural  inflection:  "Mother,  dear!  So  here  you  are  reaUyl 
You  know,  I've  been  thinking  of  you  all  morning.  I  wasn  t 
sure-'whether  you  would  come  to-day,  you  change  about  so. 
I  think  I  even  dreamed  of  you  last  night." 

Her  skirts,  still  worn  just  below  the  shoe-tops,  had  the 
richness  of  scraping  silk  then  fashionable.  She  was  also 
guilty  of  using  a  faint  perfume  of  some  kind. 

Cowperwood  could  see  that  Mrs.  Carter,  despite  a  cer- 
tain nervousness  due  to  the  giii's  superior  individuality 
and  his  prcsoice,  was  very  proud  of  her.    Berenice,  he  also 
saw  quiddy,  wtt  UMMmmig  him  out  ot  the  tail    her  eyt— 
12  3S3 


THE  TITAN 

!I^^!?if  •T^'P'pSJK'ance 'T^^ich  vouchsafed  from  be- 
neath her  long  lashes  sufficing  bm  die  nthet«<I  n«iL  , 

J^«dworidlyabUity.  XVithouthesStiondiJcffi 
him  as  a  man  of  power  in  aome  field.  pemUy  fintnce^OTe 
cS^  numerous  able  men  whom  herTdJrSd^ 
WKom,  Wie  always  wondered  about  her  mother.  Hislanre 
!rLf^'\'''^'  ^  lightning  acnira^l  J?! 

pealed  to  her  as  pjea«nt.  able  eyes!*  She  kne?!Jn  X  t- 
stant,  voung  as  she  was,  that  he  liked  women  and  that 
probaSfy  he  would  think  her  charming;  buras'f^tiW 

bfe;:id''r*L**2?°"  was  out^ae  her  code.  ^Shf 
jreferred  to  be  mterested  m  her  dear  mother  exdu- 

»  ^'^^  of  a  second  leveled 

Co— condescending  glance  from  wells  of  whS 
CoTOrwood  considered  to  bemdigo  blue. 

.aid^tat"  -fyou  f«o«  time  to  time,*'  he 

.  J*lf  '^tJj^Jrew  "  »»  «mp  and  soft  as  wax 

a^tumed  to  her  mother  again  without  comment!  and 

»^^P-"^^^^^  ^'^-ood.;eme/in 

afciSfcrC?***  P"'^^"*^^  Mrs.  Carter,  after 

of'M'b^.±,"",i^^^^^^ 

e  mSly'**  ~ The  tirit  here 

^  .9ef*er  lifted  l^r  eyebrows  as  much  as  to  say  to  her 
-l-2rfy  br  U^L  T  f  Cbwperwoi?t<;*d 
JlSTnt    £  iulT  ""'if'*'  5"^  »  suggestion  at 

S^alftvT^  'r^h       daughter;  she  maintSrSl^at 
a»e  oq^cession  of  a  vain,  self-coniciom,  supoior  ( " 


M 
esotrt. 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  MRS.  FLEMING 

"A  rather  charming  garden  here,"  he  observed,  liftiag 
a  curtain  and  looking  out  into  a  blooming  plot. 

"Yes,  the  Bamen  are  nice,"  commented  Berenice. 
"Wait;  I'll  get  some  for  you.  It's  against  the  rules,  but 
they  can't  do  more  than  send  me  away,  and  that's  what 
I  want." 

"Berenice!    Come  back  here!" 

It  was  Mrs.  Carter  calling. 

The  dau^itn  ww  gene  in  a  img  of  gmeful  lines  and 

flounces. 

"Now  what  do  you  make  of  her?"  asked  Mrs.  Carter, 
turning  to  her  friend. 

"Youth,  individuality,  eneigy — a  hundred  things.  I 
see  nothing  wrong  with  ner.'* 

"If  I  could  <mly  see  to  it  diat  she  had  her  oppcMtranties 
unspoiled." 

Already  Berenice  was  returning,  a  subject  for  an  artist 

in  ?.lmost  studied  lines.  Her  arms  were  full  of  si*eet.pcat 
and  roses  which  she  had  ruthlessly  gathered. 

"You  wilful  giriP*  scolded  her  modier,  indulgently.  *'I 
shall  have  to  go  and  explain  to  your  supeciMS.  Whatever 
shall  I  do  with  her,  Mr.  Cowperwood?* 

"Load  her  with  daisy  chains  and  transpcMt  Ittr  to 
Cytherea,"  commented  Cowperwood,  who  had  once  visited 
this  romantic  isle,  and  therefore  knew  its  significance. 

Berenice  paused.  "What  a  pretty  speech  ^at  isT'  At 
exclaimed.  "I  have  a  notion  to  give  you  a  special  flower 
for  that.    I  will,  too."    She  presented  him  with  a  rose. 

For  a  girl  who  had  slipped  in  shy  and  still,  Cowperwood 
commented,  her  mood  had  certainly  changed.  Still,  this 
was  the  orivilege  of  the  bom  actress,  to  change.  And  as 
he  viewed  Berenice  Planing  now  he  felt  her  to  be  su^t— a 
born  actress,  lissome,  subtle,  wise,  indifferent,  superior, 
taking  the  world  as  she  found  it  and  expecting  it  to  obey — 
to  sit  up  like  a  pet  dog  and  be  told  to  beg.  What  a  charm- 
mg  character!  What  a  pity  it  should  not  be  allowed  to 
bjoom  undisturbed  in  its  make-believe  garden  1  What  a 
ptty,  indeed! 


CHAPTER  XLH 

F.  A.  COWPERWOOO,  GUARDIAN 


TT  was  some  time  after  this  first  encounter  before  Cowpefw 
k  wood  saw  Berenice  again,  and  then  only  for  a  few  days 
in  that  region  of  the  Pocono  Mountains  where  Mrs.  Carter 
had  her  summer  home.    It  was  an  idyllic  spot  on  a  moun- 
tainside, some  three  miles  from  Stroudsbuig,  amonir  a  peculiar 
juxtaposition  of  hills  which,  fnmt  the  comfortable 
fnn/T'  7""^^'  ^'r '^.'^^  appearance,  as  Mrs.  cJ^wzb 
SSln      ^'xru^'     elephants  and  camels  parading  in  the 
fSf-         5""/P/  "'^      hins-some  o?  them  «  high 
as  eighteen  hundred  feet-rose  stately  and  green.  Below, 
quite  visible  for  a  mile  or  more,  moVed  thf  dusty.  wWtt 
^™Jnl!  m"**      '°  Stroudsburg    Out  of  her  liuisviUe 
^raings  Mrs.  Carter  had  managed  to  employ,  for  the  several 
wmmer  seasons  she  had  been  here,  a  jeardener,  who  kept 
rtJl         ^IT\^Y^      seasonable  fcwer..  There 

MM^nS^I^P       '"J  o ^  '""^'^  and 
nets,  and  both  Rolfe  and  Berenice  were  possessed  of  the 

latest  novelty  of  the  day-low- wheeled  bicJcleV^ich  h*l 
just  then  superseded  the  old.  high-whed  vJri^y  For 
cnnT^*^?  ^  ?  music-rack  full  of  classic  music  and 
song  collections,  a  piano,  a  shelf  of  favorite  book^  pa^ 

lv^™^f'rtt/i"°"?  'T'r'^""'  and  sSvSal 

types  of  Greek  dancing  -  tunics  which  she  had  denaned 
herself,  mc  udmg  sandals  and  fiUet  for  her  hair^S 
TiLJl^  !}  '  reflecuve.  erotic  person  dreaming  strange 
dreams  of  a  near  and  yet  far-off  social  supremacy,  at 
other  times  busying  herself  with  such  social  opportuni- 
ties as  came  to  her.    A  more  safely  calculatmi  and 

K'rdTo  fii/"^R Ber«iice  Fleming  \vould  hileSeSS 
Hard  to  hnd.  By  some  tnck  of  mental  adjustment  the  had 
gained  a  clear  prevision  of  how  necessary  it  was  to  idcct 

356 


F.  A.  COWPERWOOD,  GUARDIAN 
the  right  wdallV)  and  to  oonceal  her  true  motives  and  fed- 


ings;  and  yet  she  was  by  no  means  a  snob,  mentally,  nor 
utterly  calculating.  Certain  thines  in  her  own  and  ui  her 
modiet^i  life  troubled  her — quarrels  in  her  eariy  days,  from 
her  seventh  to  her  eleventh  year,  between  her  mother  and 
her  stepfather,  Mr.  Carter;  the  latter's  drunkenness  verg- 
ii^  upon  delirium  tremens  at  times;  movings  from  one  place 
to  another — all  sorts  of  sordid  and  depressing  happenings. 
Berenice  had  been  an  impressionable  child.  Some  things 
had  gripped  her  memory  mighdljr— once,  for  instance, 
when  she  had  seen  her  stepfather,  in  the  presence  of  her 
governess,  kick  a  table  over,  and,  seizing  the  toppling  lamp 
with  demoniac  skill,  hurl  it  duough  a  window.  She,  her> 
self,  had  been  tossed  by  him  in  one  of  these  tantrums,  when, 
m  answer  to  the  cries  of  terror  of  those  about  her,  he  had 
shouted:  "Let  her  fall!  It  won't  hurt  the  litde  devil  to 
break  a  few  bones."  This  was  her  keenest  memory  of  her 
stepfather,  and  it  rather  softened  her  judgment  of  her 
mother,  made  her  svmpathedc  with  her  when  she  was  in- 
clined  to  be  critical.  Of  her  own  father  die  only  knew 
that  he  had  divorced  her  mother — why,  she  could  not  say. 
She  liked  her  mother  on  many  counts,  thoueh  she  could  not 
feel  that  she  actually  loved  her— Mrs.  Carter  was  too 
utuous  at  times,  and  at  other  times  too  restrained. 
This  house  at  Pocono,  or  Forest  Edge,  as  Mrs.  Carter 
had  named  i^,  was  conducted  after  a  peculiar  fashion. 
F rom  Tune  to  October  only  it  was  open,  Mn.  Carter,  in  die 
past,  having  returned  to  Louisville  at  that  time,  while 
Berenice  and  Rolfe  went  back  to  their  respective  sdicols. 
Rolfe  was  a  dieerfol,  frfeasnt-raumered  yoi^»  wdl  bred, 

Snial,  and  courteous,  but  not  very  brilliant  intellectually. 
>wperwood's  judgment  of  him  the  first  time  he  saw  him 
was  that  under  ordinary  circumstances  he  woidd  make  a 
good  confidential  c'srk,  possibly  in  a  bank.  Berenice,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  child  of  the  first  husband,  was  a  crea- 
ture of  an  exotic  mind  and  an  opahaoat  liearc.  After  Ua 
first  contact  with  her  in  the  reception  -room  of  the  Brewster 
5d»d  Cowperwood  was  deeply  conscious  t»f  the  import 
of  this  budding  character.  He  was  bjr  now  so  f  an^Kar  with 
types  and  kinds  of  women  that  an  excenrional  type — quite 
uke  an  excepdonal  horse  to  a  judge  of  horse-flesh— stood 

SI7 


THE  TITAN 


ball.    Cowperwood,  after  a  telegram  to  Mw  Carter  k!5 

bRnm-shingle  roof  m  the  diKance!  It  raftJTi.  2! 
aftemcon,  and  bright  for  >  rinking  sun 

«  usual.   Two  suTh  rompsr^""-     ^he,  «.  W  « 
thinking  that  it  would  be  too  bad  ifK?l.oi  5* 
this  type  "wmSn^^T'on^  r  «hougKt,  »a, 

that  she  shoufi  have  these  children  at™U 
BccauMofexerc;JK»r  «!i  u-  l  *°  "^'^  ^^^V  loose  y. 


F.  A.  COWPERWOOD,  GUARDIAN 

He  was  merely  her  mother's  friend  to  her.  Cowperwood 
noted,  with  singular  vividness  of  feeling,  that  the  lines  of 
her  movements — the  fleeting,  momentary  positions  she 
assumed— were  full  of  a  wondrous  natural  charm.  He 
wanted  to  say  so  to  Mrs.  Carter,  but  restrained  himsdf. 

"  It's  a  brisk  game,"  he  commoited,  whii  a  pkand  giaace. 

You  play,_  do  you?" 

"Oh,  I  did.   I  don't  much  any  more.   Sometimes  I  try 
a  •«  with  Rolfe  or  Bevy;  but  thqr  both  beat  me  ao  badly. 
"Bevy?  Who  is  Bevy?" 

"Oh,  that's  short  of  Berenice.  It's  what  Rolfe  called 
her  when  he  was  a  baby." 

;;Bevyl  I  think  that  rather  nice." 

"I  always  like  it,  too.  Somehow  it  seems  to  suit  her, 
and  yet  I  don't  know  ^y." 

dinner  Berenice  made  her  appearance,  freshened 
by  a  bath  and  dad  m  a  light  summer  dress  that  appeared 
to  Cowperwood  to  be  all  flounces,  and  the  more  graceful  in 
Its  lines  for  the  problematic  absence  of  a  corset.  Her  face 
and  hands,  however— a  Hct  thin,  long,  and  sweetly  hollow, 
and  hands  that  were  slim  and  sinewy — gripped  and  held  his 
fancy.  ^  He  was  reminded  in  the  least  d^ee  of  Stefrfianie; 
but  thta  giri's  chin  waa  firmer  ai^  more  di^cattH 
more  aggressively,  rounded.  Her  eyes,  too^  were 
and  less  evasive,  though  subtle  enough. 

"So  I  meet  you  again,"  he  obeenred,  with  a  eomewhat 
aloof  air,  as  she  came  out  on  the  porch  and  sank  listlessly 
into  a  wicker  chair.  "The  last  time  I  met  you  you  were 
hard  at  work  in  New  York." 

"Breaking  the  rules.    No,  I  forget;  that  was  my  easiest 
work.   Oh,  Rolfe,"  she  caUsd  over  her  shoulder,  indiflfei^ 
endy,  "I  see  your  pocket-kn^  out  on  the  grass." 
uS?"'^^''^"^'  properiy  suppressed,  waited  a  brief  apaet. 
Who  won  that  exciting  aame?" 

"I  did,  of  course.   I  always  vnn  at  tether-baU." 

"Oh,  do  you?"  commented  Cowperwood. 

*I  mean  with  brother,  of  course.  He  plays  so  poorly." 
She  turned  to  the  west — the  house  faced  south — and  studied 
the  road  which  came  up  from  Stroudsburg.  "  I  do  believe 
that  8  Harry  Kemip,"  she  added,  quite  to  herself.  "If  so» 
ne  11  have  my  mr^  if  there  is  any.' 

359 


THE  ilTAN 

She/ot  up  again  and  disappeared  into  the  house,  coming 
outMHm  moments  later  to  sawiM'  down  to  the  gate,  which 
was  over  a  hundred  feet  away.  To  Gjwperwood  she  seemed 
to  float,  so  haie  and  graceful  was  she.  A  smart  youth  ia 
blue  serge  coat,  wMte  traown,  and  white  shoes  drove  by 
in  a  high-seated  trap. 

"Two  letters  for  you,"  he  caUed,  in  a  high,  almost  fal- 
mto  voice  "I  thought  you  would  h«ve  eight  or  nine. 
Blessed  hot,  isn  t  it?"  He  had  a  smart  though  somewhat 
memmate  manner,  and  Cowperwood  at  once  wrote  him 
down  as  an  ass.  Berenice  took  the  mail  with  an  en- 
gagmg  smile.  She  sauntered  past  him  reading,  without 
so  much  as  a  glance.  Presently  he  heard  her  voice 
withm. 

"Mother,  the  Haggertys  have  invited  me  for  the  last 
we^  m  Aunist.  I  have  half  a  mind  to  cut  Tuxedo  and 
fOj    I  like  Bess  Haggerty." 

"Well,  you'll  have  to  decide  that,  deamt.  An  thev 
going  to  be  at  Tarrytown  or  Loon  Lake  ?** 

'^Loon  Lake,  of  course,"  came  Berenice's  voice. 

What  a  world  of  social  doings  she  was  involved  in, 
thought  Cowperwood.  She  had  begun  well.  The  Hag- 
gertjrs  were  rich  coal-mine  operators  in  Pennsylvaua. 
Harns  Haggerty.  to  whose  family  she  was  probably  re- 
fernng,  was  wtmh  at  least  six  or  eight  million.  The  social 
world  they  moved  in  was  high. 

They  drove  after  dinner  to  The  Saddler,  at  Saddler's 
Run,  where  a  dance  and  "moonlight  promenade"  was  to 
be  given.  On  the  way  over,  owing  to  the  remoteness  of 
Berenice,  Cowperwood  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  felt  him- 
self to  be  getting  old.  In  spite  of  the  vigor  of  his  muid 
and  body,  he  realized  constantly  that  he  was  over  fifty- 
two,  while  she  was  only  seventeen.  Why  should  this  lure 
of  youth  continue  to  possess  him?  She  wore  a  white  con- 
coction of  lace  and  silk  which  showed  a  pair  of  smooth 
young  shoulders  and  a  slender,  queenly,  inimitably  modeled 
neck.  He  could  teU  by  the  sleek  linea  of  her  arms  how 
strong  she  was. 

"It  is  perhaps  too  late,"  he  said  to  himself,  in  comment. 
I  am  getting  old." 

The  freshness  of  the  hills  in  the  paie  night  was  sad. 

360 


F.  A.  COWPERWOOD,  GUARDIAN 

Saddler's,  when  they  reached  there  after  ten,  was  crowded 
with  the  youth  and  beauty  of  the  vicinity.  Mrs.  Garten 
who  was  prepossessing  in  a  Ml  costume  of  silver  and  oM 
lose,  expected  that  Cowperwood  would  dance  with  her. 
And  he  did,  but  all  the  time  his  eyes  were  on  Berenice, 
who  was  caught  up  by  one  youth  and  another  of  dapper 
mien  during  the  progress  of  the  evening  and  earned  myth- 
mically  by  m  die  mazes  of  the  waltz  or  schottische.  There 
was  a  new  dance  in  vogue  that  involved  a  gav,  run- 
ning step— kickine  first  one  foot  and  then  the  other  for- 
ward, turning  and  running  backward  and  kicking  again, 
and  then  8wmgiii|  with  a  smart  air,  back  to  back,  with 
one's  partner.  Berenice,  in  her  lithe,  rhythmic  way, 
seemed  to  him  the  soul  of  spirited  and  gracious  ease-;- 
unconsdous  of  eveiybody  and  everything  save  the  spint 
of  the  dance  itself  as  a  medium  of  sweet  emotiMi,  a  some 
far-off,  dreamlike  spirit  of  gaiety.  He  wondered.  He  was 
deeply  impressed. 

"Berenice,"  observed  Mrs.  Carter,  when  m  an  mter- 
mission  she  came  forward  to  where  Cowperwood  and  SM 
were  sitting  in  the  moonli^  discussing  New  York  and 
Kentucky  social  life,  "hww't  you  saved  one  dance  for 
Mr.  Cowperwood  ?** 

Cowperwood,  with  a  momentary  feeling  of  resentmwit, 
protested  that  he  did  not  care  to  dance  any  more.  Mrs. 
Carter,  he  observed  to  himself,  was  a  fed.  , 

"I  believe,"  said  her  daughter,  with  a  languid  air,  that 
I  am  full  up.  I  could  break  one  engagement,  though, 
somewhere.** 

"Not  for  me,  though,  please,"  pleaded  Cowpttwood. 
"I  don't  care  to  dance  any  more,  thank  you." 

He  ahnost  hated  her  at  the  moment  for  a  diiBy  cat. 
And  yet  he  did  not. 

"Why,  Bevy,  how  you  talk!  I  think  you  are  actmg  very 
badly  this  evening.** 

"Please,  please?'  pleaded  Cowperwood,  quite  sharj^y. 
"Not  any  more.    I  don't  care  to  dance  any  more.'* 

Bevy  looked  at  him  oddly  for  a  moment— a  ra^eoioapit- 
ful  glance. 

"But  I  have  a  dance,  though,"  she  pleaded,  softly.  I 
was  just  teasing.  W<m't  you  dance  it  with  nw?" 

361 


Jl 


THE  TITAN 

"l?;^  of  course,"  replied  Cowperwood,  coldly. 

It  s  the  next  one,"  she  replied.  ^ 
They  danced,  but  he  scarcely  softened  to  her  at  first 

pewwe,  he  felt  stilF  and  un^a  n  v    SK-  k,j  5 


^-  -J  they  went  on  through  «  secona  nait  tiie  spirit  of  her 
danang  soul  cai^t  him,  and  he  felt  more  at  Sase,  quki 

••You  dance  beautifully,"  he  said, 
heijte^him***'  °f  - 


«?a2  "'T  '^^«»»yo«^"l<i  take  me  where  the 

u  "^'j  *o  Cowperwood. 

toward lim!''  ^  """"^       ^^^^'^'^^     ^'  ""^^ 

your  L'Hkid."^* '  p^'""^  ^"'"^ 

"I  am  only  tired,"  she  replied.   '•The  evenimr  bent  me. 
Reajhritdoes.   I  wish  we  i;*!*  aU  home.^^^^'- 
We  can  go  when  you  say,  no  doubt." 
As  they  reached  the  ices,  and  she  took  one  from  his  hand 

^"1^2.         *  fl«  quahty  of  unglazed  Dutch  tiles. 

I  coulZv       T"*?  ^""^l"  "I  was  rude. 

~T  hill  '  A      '  '^th  myself." 

l„  k-  ^'^e  "     observed.  lyS  inod- 

ly.  ta«  mood  toward  her  changing  entirely.  ^  ^ 

cere^'j^SvoT;^^^^^^^^^^^  ^ 
give!"****  hear£--the  little  that  ther€  is  to  foiw 

wno  was  wa  tmg.    He  watched  her  trip  away  in  a  dance 
and  eventually  Fed  her  mother  to  the  U*v  Bei^i«5S 

"ne  her'  '  ^"^i"'"'  ^."^^  ----  el^l^s^bn^? 
?S  »K     ^T™***  wondered  when  she  would  con^ 

«d-  Xr//' n  '°r'  1?*^  ^«     "y  »^ 

wievea^fiH  ^r'"'  f'*^T'"6  and  h«  dS.' 

Diue  eyet  were  hUu^  hu  mind  completely. 

36« 


CHAPTER  XUII 


THB  PLANET  MARS 

THE  bankine  hostility  to  Cowperwood,  which  in  its  be> 
ginning  had  made  necessary  nis  trip  to  Kentucky  and 
elsewhere,  finally  reached  a  climax.  It  followed  an  attempt 
on  his  part  to  furnish  funds  for  the  building  of  elevated 
roads.  The  hour  for  this  new  form  of  transit  oonvcnience 
had  struck.  The  pubUc  demanded  it.  Cowperwood  saw 
one  elevated  road,  the  South  Side  Alley  Line,  being  built, 
and  another,  the  West  Side  Meoi^>ditan  Line,  being  pro- 
posed, largely,  as  he  knew,  in  order  to  create  sentiment  for 
the  idea,  and  so  to  make  his  opposition  to  a  general  fran- 
chise difficult.  He  was  well  aware  that  if  he  did  not  choose 
to^  build  them  others  would.  It  mattered  little  that  elec- 
tricity had  arrived  finally  as  a  perfected  traction  factor,  and 
that  all  his  lines  would  soon  have  to  be  done  over  to  meet 
that  condidon,  or  that  it  was  costing  him  thousands  and 
diousands  to  nzy  the  direatenine  aspect  of  diings  politi- 
cally. In  addition  he  must  now  plunge  into  this  new  realm, 
gaining  franchises  by  the  roughest  and  subtlest  forms  of 
poKtical  bribery.  The  most  serious  aspect  of  dib  was 
not  political,  but  rather  financial.  Elevated  roads  in 
Chicago,  owing  to  the  sparseness  of  the  population  over 
large  areas,  were  a  serious  thing  to  contemplate.  The  mere 
cost  of  iron,  right  of  way,  rolling-stock,  and  power-plants  was 
immense.  Being  chronically  opposed  to  mvesdng  his  pri- 
vate funds  where  stocks  could  just  as  well  be  unloaded  on  the 
public,  and  the  management  and  control  retained  by  him, 
Cowperwood,  for  the  time  being,  was  puzzled  as  to  where  he 
should  get  credit  for  the  millions  to  oe  laid  down  in  stn»* 
tural  steel,  engineering  fees,  labor,  and  equipment  before 
ever  a  dollar  could  be  taken  out  in  passenger  fares.  Owing 
to  the  advent  of  dw  Worid's  Fair,  dit  Soutk  Side  «*L"-~ 

363 


THE  TITAN 


to  which,  in  order  to  have  peace  and  quiet,  he  had  finally 
conceded  a  franchise — was  doing  reasonably  well.  Yet  it 
was  not  makine  any  such  return  on  the  investment  at  die 
New  York  roads.  The  new  lines  which  he  was  preparing 
would  traverse  even  less  populous  sections  of  the  dty, 
and  would  in  all  likelihood  yield  even  a  smaller  return. 
Money  had  to  be  forthcoming — something  between  twelve 
and  fifteen  million  dollars — and  this  on  the  stocks  and 
bonds  of  a  purely  paper  corporaticm  which  might  not  yidd 
pajTng  dividends  for  years  to  come.  Addison,  finding  that 
the  Chicago  Trust  Company  was  already  heavily  loaded, 
called  upon  various  minor  but  prosperous  local  banks  to 
take  over  the  new  securities  (each  in  part,  of  course). 
He  was  astonished  and  chagrined  to  find  that  one  and  ail 
uniformly  refused. 

"I'll  tdl  you  how  it  is,  Judah,"  one  bank  president  con- 
fided to  him,  m  great  secrecy.  ."We  owe  Timothy  Ameel 
at  least  three  hundred  thousand  dollars  that  we  only  have 
to  pav  three  per  cent.  for.  It's  a  call-loan.  Besides,  the 
Lake  NatKmal  is  our  main  standby  when  it  comes  to  quick 
trades,  and  he's  in  on  that.  I  understand  from  one  or  two 
tiMnds  that  he's  at  outs  with  Cowperwood,  and  we  can't 
amnd  to  offend  htm.  I'd  like  to,  but  no  more  for  me — 
not  at  present,  anyhow." 

"Why,  Simmons,"  replied  Addison,  "these  fellows  are 
simply  cutting  off  their  noses  to  spite  their  faces.  These 
stock  and  bond  issues  are  perfectly  good  investments,  and 
no  one  knows  it  better  than  you  do.  All  this  hue  and  cry 
in  the  newspapers  against  Cowperwood  doesn't  amount  to 
anything.  He's  perfectly  solvent.  Chicago  is  giowu^ 
His  lines  are  becoming  more  valuable  every  yentJ' 

"  I  know  that,"  replied  Simmons.  "  But  what  about  diis 
talk  of  a  rival  elevated  system?  Won't  that  injure  his  lines 

uie  ^'^^  ^^ing,  anyhow,  if  it  comes  into  the  field?" 
If  I  know  anything  about  Cowperwood,"  replied  Ad- 
dison, simply,  "there  isn't  going  to  be  any  rival  elevated 
road.  It's  true  they  got  the  city  council  to  give  them  a 
franchise  for  one  line  on  the  South  Side;  but  that's  out  of 
his  territory,  anyhow,  and  that  other  one  to  the  Chicago 
Goieral  Company  doesn't  amoimt  to  anything.  It  will 
be  jtm  and  years  before  tt  can  be  made  to  pay  a  4eiiar, 

364 


THE  PLANET  MARS 

and  when  the  time  comes  he  will  probably  take  it  over  if 
he  wants  it.  Another  election  will  be  held  in  two  years, 
and  then  the  city  administration  may  not  be  so  unfavor- 
able. As  it  is,  they  haven't  been  able  to  hurt  him  through 
the  council  as  much  as  they  thoueht  they  would." 
"Yes;  but  he  lost  the  election.' 

"True;  but  it  doesn't  foUow  he's  going  to  lose  the  iicxt 
one,  or  every  one.** 

"Just  the  same,"  replied  Simmons,  very  secretively,  "I 
understand  there's  a  concerted  effort  on  to  drive  him  out. 
Schryhart,  Hand,  Merrill,  Ameel— they're  the  most  power- 
ful men  we  have.  I  understand  Hand  says  that  he'll  never 
^et  his  franchises  renewed  except  on  terms  that  '11  make  his 
mes  unprofitable.  There's  going  to  be  an  awfiU  smadi 
here  one  of  these  days  if  that's  true.**  Mr.  Simimms  lodked 
verv  wise  and  solemn. 

'  r^ever  believe  it/'  replied  Addison,  contemptuously. 
"Hand  isn't  Chicago,  neither  is  Schryhart,  nor  Ameel. 
Cowperwood  is  a  brainy  man.  He  isn't  going  to  be  put 
under  so  easily.  Did  you  ever  he?  what  was  ml 
bottom  cause  of  all  this  disturbance?" 
"Yes,  I've  heard,"  replied  Sinunons. 
"Do  you  believe  kr 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  Yes,  I  suppose  I  do.  Still,  I  don't 
know  that  that  need  have  anything  to  do  with  it.  Mone^ 
envy  is  enough  to  make  aay  man  ^it.  Tlus  man  Hmd  is 
very  powerful." 

Not  long  after  this  Cowperwood,  strolling  into  the  presi- 
dent's office  of  the  Chicago  Tnist  Company,  inquired: 
"Well,  Judah,  how  about  those  Northwestern  *  L'  bonds?" 
^  "It's  just  as  I  thought,  Frank,"  replied  Addison,  softly. 
"We'll  have  to  eo  outside  of  Chicago  for  that  money. 
Hand,  Ameel,  and  the  rest  of  that  crowd  have  decided  to 
combine  against  us.  That's  plain.  Something  has  started 
them  off  in  full  cry.  I  suppose  my  resignation  may  have 
had  something  to  do  with  it.  Anyhow,  every  one  of  the 
banks  in  whim  they  have  any  hand  has  uniformly  refused 
to  come  in.  To  make  sure  tnat  I  was  ri^t  I  even  called 
up  the  little  old  Third  National  of  Lake  View  and  the 
Drovers  and  Traders  on  Forty-seventh  Street.  Hiat's 
Charlie  WaUin's  bank.  Whm  I  was  over  m  ^  Lalea 

365 


11 


THE  TITAN 

National  he  used  to  hang  around  the  back  door  asking  for 
anything  I  could  give  him  that  was  sound.   Now  he  tayt 

his  orders  are  from  his  directors  not  to  share  in  an3rthing 
we  have  to  offer.  It's  the  same  stoiy  everywhere—they 
daren't.  I  asked  Wallin  if  he  knew  why  the  directors  were 
down  on  the  Chicago  Tru^t  or  on  you,  and  at  first  he  said 
he  didn't.  Then  he  said  he'd  stop  in  and  lunch  with  me 
some  day.  They're  the  silliest  lot  of  <Ad  ostriches  I  ever 
heard  of.  As  if  refusing  to  let  us  have  money  on  any  loan 
here  was  going  to  prevent  us  from  getting  it!  They  can 
take  their  little  old  <me^orse  banks  and  play  blockhouses 
with  them  if  they  ant  to.  I  can  go  to  New  York  and  in 
thirty-six  hours  raise  twenty  million  dollars  if  we  need  it." 

Addison  was  a  little  warm.  It  was  a  new  eiq>erience  1^ 
him.  Cowperwood  merely  curled  his  mustadies  aad 
smiled  'sardonically.   

"Well,  never  mind,"  he  said.  "Will  you  go  down  to 
New  York,  or  shall  I?" 

It  was  decided,  after  some  talk,  that  Addison  should  go. 
When  he  reached  New  York  he  found,  to  his  surprise,  that 
the  local  opoosition  to  Cowperwood  had,  for  some  mysteii- 
ous  reason,  begun  to  take  root  in  the  East. 

"I'll  tell  you  how  it  is,"  observed  Joseph  Haeckelheimer, 
to  whom  Addison  appli«l  —  a  short,  smug,  pussy  person 
who  was  the  head  of  naeckelhdmer,  Gotloeb  &  Co.,  inter* 
national  bankers.  "We  hear  od^  things  concerning  Mr. 
Cowperwood  out  in  Chicago.  Some  people  say  he  is  sound 
— some  not.  He  has  some  very  good  franchises  coverhig 
a  large  portion  of  the  c'  y,  but  they  are  only  twenty-year 
franchises,  and  they  will  all  run  out  by  1^3  at  the  latest. 
As  I  understand  it,  he  has  managed  to  stir  up  all  the  local 
elements — some  very  powerful  ones,  too — and  he  is  certain 
to  have  a  hard  time  to  get  his  franchises  renewed.  I  don't 
live  in  Chicagc^  of  course.  I  dm't  know  much  about  it, 
but  our  Western  correspondent  tells  me  this  is  so.  Mr. 
Cowpeiwood  is  a  very  able  man,  as  I  understand  it,  but 
if  all  these  influential  men  are  opposed  to  him  they  can 
make  him  a  great  deal,  of  trouble.  The  puUic  is  raf 
easilv  aroused?' 

"You  do  2  very  able  man  a  great  injustice,  Mr.  Haedbil- 
Mimer,"  Addison  retorted.     Almost  any  one  wlio  itaiti 

366 


THE  PLANET  MARS 


out  to  do  things  successfully  and  intelligently  is  sure  to  stir 
up  a  great  deal  of  feeling.  The  particular  men  you  men- 
Ooa  seem  to  feel  that  they  have  a  sort  of  proprietor's  in- 
terest in  Chicago.   They  really  think  they  own  it.   As  a 


fine  white  hands,  plump  and  stubby,  over  the  lower  buttons 
of  his  protuberant  waistcoat.  "Public  favor  is  a  great 
factor  in  all  these  enterprises,"  he  almost  sighed.  "As 
you  know,  part  of  -a  man's  resources  lies  in  his  ability  to 
avoid  stirring  up  opposition.  It  may  be  that  Mr.  Cowper- 
wood  is  strong  enough  to  overcome  all  that.  I  don't  know. 
I've  never  met  him.    I'm  just  telling  you  what  I  hear." 

This  offish  attitude  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Haeckelheimer 
was  indicative  of  a  new  trend.  The  man  was  enormously 
wealthy.  The  firm  of  Haeckelheimer,  Gotloeb  &  Co. 
represented  a  controlling  interest  in  some  of  the  principal 
railways  and  banks  in  America.  Their  favor  was  not  to 
be  held  in  li^ht  esteem. 

It  was  phm  that  these  rumors  against  Cowperwood  in 
New  York,  unless  offset  promptly  by  favorable  events  in 
Chicago,  might  mean — in  the  large  banking  quarters,  any- 
how—the refusal  of  all  subsequent  Cowperwood  issues. 
It  might  even  close  the  doors  of  minor  banks  and  make 
private  investors  nervous. 

Addison's  report  of  all  this  annoyed  Cowperwood  no 
little.  It  made  him  angry.  He  saw  in  it  the  work  of 
Schiyhart,  Hand,  and  others  who  were  trying  their  best 
to  discredit  him.  "Let  them  talk,"  he  declared,  crossly. 
"I  have  the  street-railways.  They're  not  goine  to  rout 
me  out  of  here.  I  can  sdl  stock*  and  bonds  to  die  public 
direct  if  need  be!  There  are  plenty  of  private  people  who 
are  glad  to  invest  in  these  properties." 

At  this  psychological  moment  enter,  as  by  the  hand 
of  Fate,  the  planet  Mars  and  the  University.  This  latter, 
from  having  been  for  years  a  humble  Baptist  college  of 
the  cheapest  character,  had  suddenly,  through  the  benef- 
icence of  a  great  Standard  Oil  multimillionaire,  flared 
upward  into  a  great  university,  and  was  causing  a  stir 
throughout  the  teigth  and  breadth  of  the  edttct^Miid  wofM. 


367 


THE  TITAN 

It  was  already  a  most  noteworthy  spectacle,  one  of  the 
sights  of  the  city.  Millions  were  being  poi'red  into  it;  new 
and  beautiful  buildings  were  almost  monthly  erected.  A 
brilliant,  dynamic  man  had  been  called  from  the  East  as 
president.  There  were  still  many  things  needed — dor- 
mitories, laboratories  of  one  kind  and  another,  a  great 
library;  and,  last  but  not  least,  a  nant  telescope — one  that 
would  sweep  the  heavens  »  h  a  nitherto  unparalleled  re- 
ceptive eye,  and  wring  f*  .t  secrets  not  previoudy  d»» 
cipherable  by  the  eye  an    -ic  mind  of  man.  ^ 

O>wperwood  had  always  been  interested  in  the  heavens 
and  in  the  giiint  mathematical  and  physical  methods  of 
interpreting  them.  It  so  happened  that  the  war-like  planet* 
widi  its  sinister  aspect,  was  just  at  this  time  to  bie  seen 
haneing  in  the  west,  a  fiery  red;  and  t*^  easily  aroused 
pubuc  mind  was  being  stirred  to  its  sh;.  fi  depth  by  re- 
reflectkms  and  speculations  regarding  the  famous  canals 
of  the  luminary.  The  mere  thought  of  the  possibility  of 
a  larger  telescope  than  any  now  in  existence,  which  might 
diiow  additional  light  on  this  evasive  mystery,  wat  excit- 
ing not  only  Chicago,  but  the  whole  world.  Late  one  after- 
noon Cowperwood,  looking  over  some  open  fields  which 
faced  his  new  power-house  in  West  Madison  Street,  observed 
the  planet  hanging  low  and  lucent  in  the  evening  sky,  a 
warm,  radiant  bit  of  orange  in  a  sea  of  silver.  He  paused 
and  surveyed  it.  Was  it  true  that  there  wne  canals  oo  % 
and  people?   Life  was  surely  strange. 

One  day  not  long  after  this  Alexander  Rambaud  caUed 
him  up  on  the  'pbmie  and  remarked,  jocosely: 

*'I  say,  Cowperwood,  I've  played  a  rather  shabby  tndc 
on  you  just  now.  Doctor  Hooper,  of  the  University, 
was  in  here  a  few  minutes  ago  asking  me  to  be  one 
of  ten  to  guarantee  the  cost  of  a  telescope  lens  that  he 
thinks  he  needs  to  run  that  one-horse  school  of  his  out 
there.  I  told  him  I  thought  you  might  possibly  be  in- 
terested. His  idea  is  to  find  some  one  who  will  guarantee 
forty  thousand  ddilars,  or  eight  or  ten  men  who  will  guar- 
antee four  or  five  thousand  each.  I  thought  of  you,  b^ 
cause  I've  heard  you  discuss  astronomy  from  time  to  time. 

"Let  him  come,"  replied  Cowperwood,  who  was  never 
n^iitt  to  be  bdund  ethers  in  generotity,  particulaiiy  tviim 

368 


THE  PLANET  MARS 

his  efforts  were  likely  to  be  appreciated  in  ngnificant 

quarters. 

Shortly  afterward  appeared  the  doctor  hinuelf— short, 
rotund,  rubicund,  displaying  behind  a  pair  of  clear,  thick, 
gold-rimmed  glasses,  round,  dancing,  incisive  eyes.  Imag- 
inative grip,  buoyant,  self  -  delusive  self-respect  were 
written  all  over  him.  The  two  men  eved  each  other— one 
with  that  broad -  gage  examination  which  sees  even  uni- 
versities as  futile  in  the  endless  shift  of  things;  the  other 
with  that  faith  in  the  balance  for  ri^t  which  makes  even 
great  personal  forces,  such  as  financia!  magnates,  serve  an 
idealistic  end. 

"It's  not  a  very  long  story  I  have  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Cow- 
>erwood,"  said  uie  doctor.  "Our  astronomical  woric  it 
landicapped  just  now  by  the  simple  fact  that  we  have  no 
ens  at  all,  no  telescope  worthy  of  the  n^L  ne.  I  should  like 
to  see  the  University  do  origmal  work  in  this  fi^,  nd  do 
it  in  a  great  way.  The  only  way  to  do  it,  .n  my  judgment, 
is  to  do  it  better  than  any  one  else  can.  Don  t  you  agree 
with  me?"  He  showed  a  row  of  shinng  white  teethi 

Cowperwood  smiled  urbanely. 

"Will  a  forty-thotisand-dollar  lens  be  a  better  lens  than 
any  other  lens?"  he  inquired. 

'Made  by  Appleman  Brothers,  of  Dorchester,  it  will," 
3  plied  the  college  president.  "The  whole  story  is  here, 
>ir.  Cowperwood.  These  men  are  practical  lens-makers. 
A  ereat  lens,  in  the  first  place,  is  a  matter  of  finding  a  suit- 
able crystal.  Large  and  flawless  crystals  are  not  common, 
as  you  may  possibly  know.  Such  a  cryst«d  has  recently 
been  found,  and  is  now  owned  by  Mr.  Appleman.  It  takes 
about  four  or  five  years  to  grind  and  polish  it.  Most  of 
the  polishing,  as  you  may  or  may  not  know,  is  done  by 
the  hand— smoothing  it  with  the  thumb  and  forefinger. 
The  time,  judgment,  and  skill  of  an  optical  expert  is  re- 
quired. To-day,  unfortunately,  that  is  not  cheap.  The 
laborer  is  worthy  of  his  hire,  however,  I  suppose"— he 
\yaved  a  soft,  full,  white  hand — ^"and  forty  thousand  is 
little  enough.  It  would  be  a  great  honor  if  the  University 
could  have  the  largest,  most  serviceable,  and  most  perfect 
lens  in  the  workl.  It  would  reflect  neat  credit,  I  take  it, 
on  the  men  nAio  wmild  make  this  possiUe." 


THE  TITAN 

CowMFwood  liked  the  man's  artistically  educational  air* 
obviously  here  was  a  personage  of  ability,  brains,  emocioii! 
and  saentific  entluMuuni.  It  was  splendid  to  himtoitw 
2ny  itroiu  man  in  earnest,  for  himself  or  others. 

And  forty  thousand  will  do  this?"  he  asked. 

Yes,^ar.  Forty  thousand  wOl  guarantee  us  the  lens, 

'And  how  about  land,  buildings,  a  telescope  frame? 

«M  ^^^^^  prepared  for  it  r 

Not  as  yet,  but,  since  it  takes  four  years  at  least  to 
gnnd  the  lens,  there  will  be  time  enough,  when  the  lens  is 
neanng  completion,  to  look  after  the  accsMories.  We  have  ' 
picked  our  site,  howevei^Lake  Geneva— and  we  would 
not  refuse  either  land  or  accessories  if  we  knew  where  to 
get  them. 

thiJjS?  ^  teeth,  the  keen  «3w  bod., 

-iJSTTI?*^  "V  f opportunity.  He  asked  fihat 
would  be  the  cost  of  die  enpre  project.  Dr.  Hooper  pre- 
•umed  that  three  hundred  thounnd  would  do  it  all  hand- 
somely—lens, tdeacope,  bad,  machinery,  huadinM  neat 

monument. 

"And  how  much  have  you  guaranteed  on  the  cost  of 
your  lens  r 

''Sixteen  thousand  dollars,  so  far." 

^To  be  paid  when?" 
In  instalments— ten  thousand  a  year  for  four  yeais. 
just  enough  to  keep  the  lens-maker  busy  for  the  present." 

Cowperwood  reflected.  Ten  thousand  a  year  for  four 
years  would  be  a  mere  salary  item,  and  at  the  end  of  that 
ttme  he  fck  sure  that  he  could  supply  the  remainder  of 
tte  money  quite  easdy.  He  would  be  to  much  richer:  his 
pumi  would  be  so  much  more  mature.  On  such  a  repute 
itfte  ability  to  give  a  three-hundred-thousand-dollar  tele- 
scope out  of  hand  to  be  known  as  the  Cowperwood  tele- 
scope) he  could  undoubtedly  raise  money  in  London,  New 

I?  I        ij**"*^^  aicago  enterprise.  The 

whole  world  would  know  him  in  a  day.  He  paused,  his 
Miigmatic  eyes  revealing  nothing  of  the  splendid  vision 
thtt  danced  before  them.  At  lasti  At  lastl 

How  would  It  do,  Mr.  Hooper,"  he  said,  sweedy,  "if,  m- 

370 


THE  PLANET  MARS 

stead  of  ten  men  giving  you  four  thousand  each,  as  you 
plan,  one  man  were  to  give  you  fortv  thousand  in  annuu! 
instalments  of  ten  thousand  each  i  Gmid  that  be  arraag^ 

as  well?** 

"My  dear  Mr.  Cowperwood,"  exclaimed  the  doctor, 
glowing,  his  eyes  alight,  "do  I  understand  diat  you  per- 
sonally might  wish  to  nve  the  money  for  diis  Umf* 

"I  might,  yes.  But  I  should  have  to  exact  one  l^dfe, 
Mr.  Hooper,  if  I  did  any  such  thing.** 

"And  what  would  diat  be 

"The  privilege  of  giving  the  land  and  the  building — the 
whole  telescope,  in  (act.  I  presume  no  word  of  this  will 
be  given  out  imless  the  matter  is  favorably  acted  uponf 
he  added,  cautiously  and  diplomatically. 

The  new  president  of  the  university  arose  and  e>  ed  him 
with  a  peauiaiiy  approbative  and  grateful  gaze.  He  was 
a  busy,  overworkea  man.  His  task  was  large.  Any  bur- 
den taken  from  his  shoulders  in  this  fashion  was  a  great 
relkf. 

"My  answer  to  that,  Mr.  Cowperwood,  if  I  had  the  au- 
thority, would  be  to  agree  now  in  the  name  of  the  Univer- 
sity, and  thank  you.  For  form*s  sake,  I  must  submit  the 
matter  to  the  trustees  of  the  University,  but  I  have  no 
doubt  as  to  the  outcome.  I  anticipate  nothing  but  grateful 
approbation.   Let  me  thank  you  again." 

They  shook  hands  warmly,  and  the  solid  collegian  bustled 
forth.  Cowperwood  sank  qtiietly  in  his  chair.  He  pressed 
his  fingers  together,  and  for  a  moment  or  two  permitted 
himself  to  dream.  Tlien  he  called  a  stenograoher  and  be- 
gan a  bit  of  dictation.  He  did  not  care  to  tiiink  even  to 
himself  how  univen^  advmtMgetm  all  ^is  m^it  yet 
prove  to  be. 

The  result  was  that  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  the  proffer 
was  formally  accepted  by  the  trustees  of  the  University, 
and  a  report  of  the  matter,  with  Cowperwood's  formal  am- 
sent,  was  given  out  for  publication.  The  fortuitous  com- 
bination of  circumstances  already  described  gave  the  mat- 
ter a  unique  news  value.  Giant  reflecom  and  refractors 
had  been  given  and  were  in  use  in  other  parts  of  the  world, 
but  none  so  large  or  so  important  as  this.   The  gift  was 

371 


'ft 


THE  TITAN 

sufficient  to  set  Cowperwood  forth  in  the  liKht  of  a  public 
benefactor  and  patron  of  science.  Not  only  in  Qiicago, 
but  ui  London,  Paris,  and  New  York,  wherever,  indeed,  in 
the  great  capitals  scientific  and  intellectual  men  were  gath- 
ered, this  significant  gift  of  an  apparently  fabulously  ridi 
American  became  the  subject  of  exdted  dtacussion.  Bank- 
ine  men,  among  others,  took  sharp  note  of  the  donor,  and 
when  Cowperwood's  emissaries  came  around  later  with  a 
suggestion  that  the  fifty-year  franchises  about  to  be  voted 
him  for  elevated  roads  should  be  made  a  basis  of  bond  and 
mortgage  loans,  they  were  courteously  received.  A  man 
who  could  give  three4iundred-thousand-dollar  telfjcopet 
in  the  hour  of  his  greatest  difficulties  must  be  in  a  rather 
satisfactory  financial  condition.  He  must  have  great 
wealth  in  reserve.  After  some  preliminaries,  during  wiiich 
Cowperwood  paid  a  flying  visit  to  Threadneedle  Street  in 
Lond(m,  and  to  Wall  Street  in  New  York,  an  arrangement 
was  made  with  an  English-American  bulking  company  by 
which  the  majority  of  die  bonds  for  his  proposed  roads  were 
taken  over  by  diem  for  sale  in  Europe  and  elsewhere,  and 
he  was  given  ample  means  wherewith  to  proceed.  Iiuttant- 
ly  the  stocks  of  his  surface  lines  bounded  in  price,  and 
those  ynm  had  been  sdieming  to  bring  about  Cowperwood's 
downfall  gnashed  impotmt  teeth.  Ev«  Haetxdheuner 
&  Co.  were  interested. 

Anson  Merrill,  who  had  only  a  few  weeks  before  given 
a  large  field  for  athletic  purposes  to  the  University,  pulled 
a  wnr  face  over  this  sudden  eclipse  of  his  glory.  Hosmer 
Hand,  who  had  given  a  chemical  laboratory,  and  Schry- 
hart,  who  had  presented  a  dormitory,  were  depressed  to 
think  that  a  benefacrion  less  costly  than  than  should 
create,  because  of  the  distincrim  vUvtut  idea,  so  mudi  more 
notable  comment.  It  was  merely  another  example  of  the 
bnlhant  fortune  which  seemed  to  pursue  the  man,  the  star 
that  set  all  their  plant  at  ixSaaat* 


■  I. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

A  FRANCHISE  OBTAINED 

THE  monejr  reautsite  for  the  construction  of  elevated 
roads  having  been  thus  pyrotechnically  obtained,  the 
acquisttton  of  fnnduiet  rmu^ed  no  easy  matter.  It  in- 
volved, among  ^ther  problems,  the  taming  of  Chaffee 
Thayer  Sluss,  who,  quite  unconscious  of  the  evidence 
stored  up  against  hiin,  hsd  begun  to  fulminat*  tiM  OMmieiit 
it  was  suggested  in  various  secret  political  quarters  that  a 
new  ordinance  was  about  to  be  introduced,  and.  that  Cowper- 
wood  was  to  be  the  beneficiary.  "Don't  you  let  than  do 
that,  Mr.  SIum,"  observed  Mr.  Hand,  who  for  purposes  of 
conference  had  courteously  but  firmly  bidden  ms  hireling, 
the  mayor,  to  lunch.  "Don't  you  let  them  pass  that  if 
you  can  help  it."  (At  chairman  or  president  of  the  city 
council  Mr.  9um  Md  consideraUe  manir -tlative  power 
over  the  machinery  of  procedure.)  "Raise  ^h  a  row  that 
they  won't  tiy  to  pass  it  over  your  head.  .  our  political 
future  really  depends  on  it— your  standing  with  die  people 
of  Chicago.  The  newspapers  and  the  respectable  financial 
and  social  elements  will  fill!  - support  /nu  in  this.  Other- 
wise they  win  ^fho&y  deeerJ  y  yu.  Tlii  iKs  have  omne  to  a 
handsome  pass  when  men  sworn  and  dected  to  perform 
given  services  turn  on  their  backers  and  betray  them  in 
this  way!" 
Mr.  Hand  was  very  wroth. 

Mr.  Sluss,  immaculate  in  black  broadcloth  and  white 
linen,  was  very  rare  diat  he  would  fulfil  to  the  letter  all  of 
Mr.  Hand's  suggestions.  The  proposed  ordinance  should 
be  denounced  by  him;  its  legislative  progress  heartily 
opposed  in  council. 

'They  shall  get  no  quarter  from  me!"  he  declared,  em- 
phatically. "I  know  what  the  scheme  is.  They  know 
that  I  know  it." 

373 


THE  TITAN 

He  looked  at  Mr.  Hand  quite  as  one  advocate  of  right- 
eousness should  look  at  another,  and  the  rich  promoter 
went  away  satisfied  that  the  reins  of  government  were  in 
safe  hands.  Immediately  afterward  Mr.  Sluss  gave  out  an 
mterview  in  which  he  served  warning  on  all  aldermen  and 
councilmen  that  no  such  ordinance  as  the  one  in  questkm 
would  ever  be  signed  by  him  as  mayor. 

At  half  past  ten  on  the  same  moming  on  which  the 
mterview  appeared— the  hour  at  which  Mr.  Sluss  usually 
reached  his  office— his  private  telephone  bell  rang,  and  an 
assistant  inouired  if  he  would  be  willing  to  speak  with 
Mr.  Frank  A.  Cowperwood.  Mr.  Sluss,  somehow  anrici- 
pating  fresh  laurels  of  victory,  gratified  by  the  front-page 
display  Mven  his  announcement  in  the  moming  papers, 
and  swelling  internally  with  civic  piide»  anaoimced, 
solemnly:  "Yes;  connect  me." 

"Mr.  Sluss,"  began  Cowperwood,  at  the  other  end,  "thi« 
18  Frank  A.  G)wperwood." 

"Yes.  What  can  I  do  for  you,  Mr.  Cowperwood?" 
•II  u      ^  L  •  papers  that  you  state  that  you 

will  have  nothing  to  do  with  any  proposed  ordinance  which 
looks  to  giving  me  a  franchise  for  any  elevated  road  on 
the  North  or  West  Side?" 

..'.'^***'„"  ^P^^d  Mr.  Sluss,  loftily.  "I 

will  not."  ' 

"Don't  you  think  it  is  rather  premature,  Mr.  Sluss,  to 
denounce  something  which  has  only  a  rumored  existence?" 
(Cowperwood,  smiling  sweetly  to  himself,  was  quite  like  a 
cat  playing  with  an  unsuspicious  mouse.)  "I  should  like 
very  much  to  talk  this  whole  matter  over  with  you  per- 
sonally before  you  take  an  irrevocable  attitude.  It  is  just 
possible  that  after  you  have  heard  my  side  you  may  not 
be  so  completely  opposed  to  me.  From  time  to  time  I  have 
sent  to  you  several  of  my  personal  friends,  but  apparently 
you  do  not  care  to  receive  them." 

"Quite  true,"  replied  Mr.  Sluss,  loftily;  "but  you  must 
remember  that  T  am  a  very  busy  man,  Mr.  CoWperwood, 
and,  besides,  i  do  not  see  how  I  can  serve  any  of  your  pur- 
poses. You  are  working  for  a  set  of  conditions  to  which 
1  ani  morally  and  temperamentally  opposed.  I  am  work- 
ing for  another.   I  do  not  see  that  we  have  any  common 

374 


A  FRANCHISE  OBTAINED 


ground  on  whidi  to  meet.  In  fact,  I  do  not  tee  how  I 
can  be  of  any  service  to  you  whatsoever." 

"Just  a  moment,  please,  Mr.  Mayor,"  replied  Cowper- 
wood,  still  very  sweetly,  and  fearing  tnat  Sluss  might  choose 
to  hang  up  the  receiver,  so  superior  was  his  tone.  "There 
may  be  some  common  grouna  of  which  you  do  not  know. 
Wouldn't  you  like  to  come  to  lunch  at  my  residence  or  re- 
ceive me  at  yours?  Or  let  me  come  to  your  office  and  talk 
this  matter  over.  I  believe  you  will  find  it  the  part  of 
wisdom  as  well  as  of  courtesy  to  do  this." 

"I  cannot  possibly  lunch  with  you  tonday,"  replied  Sluss, 
"and  I  cannot  see  you,  eidier.  There  are  a  number  of 
things  pressing  for  mv  attention.  I  must  say  also  that  I 
cannot  hold  any  back-room  conferences  with  you  or  your 
emissaries.  If  yoa  come  yon  must  mibmk  to  the  presence 
of  others." 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Sluss,"  rejplied  Cowperwood,  cheerfully. 
"I  will  not  come  to  your  office.  But  unim  you  come  to 
mine  before  five  o'clock  this  afternoon  you  will  face  by 
noon  to-morrow  a  suit  for  breach  of  promise,  and  your 
letters  to  Mrs.  Bnuukm  will  be  given  to  die  public.  I  wish 
to  remind  you  that  an  election  is  coming  on,  and  that 
Chicago  favors  a  mayor  who  is  privately  moral  as  well  as 
publicly  so.    Good  morning." 

Mr.  Cowperwood  hung  up  his  telephone  receiver  with  a 
click,  and  mr.  Sluss  sensibly  and  visibly  stiffened  and 
paled.  Mrs.  Brandon!  The  charming,  lovable,  discreet 
Mrs.  Brandon  \dio  had  so  ungenerously  left  him!  Why 
should  she  be  diinking  of  suing  him  for  breach  of  promise, 
and  how  did  his  letter  to  her  come  to  be  in  Cbwperwood's 
hands?  Good  heavens — those  mushy  letters!  His  wife! 
His  children!  His  diurch  and  die  owlish  paster  thereof! 
Chicago!  And  its  conventional,  moral,  relieious  atmos- 
phere! Come  to  think  of  Mrs.  Brandon  nad  scarcely 
»f  ever  written  him  a  note  of  any  kind.  He  did  not  even 
know  her  history. 

At  the  thought  of  Mrs.  Sluss— 4ier  hard,  cold,  blue  eyes — 
Mr.  Sluss  arose,  tall  and  distrait,  and  ran  hit  hand  dirough 
his  hair.  He  walked  to  the  window,  snapping  his  thumb 
and  middle  finger  and  looking  eagerly  at  the  floor.  He 
thought  of  the  u^^phom  twitcbmatd  jwt  ouciide  Ida 

S7S 


THE  TITAN 

private  office,  and  wondered  whether  his  secretary,  a  hand- 
some young  Presbyterian  mrl,  had  been  listening,  as  usual. 
Oh,  this  sad,  sad  woridl  If  the  North  Side  ever  learned 
<rf"  this — Hand,  the  newspapers,  voung  MacDonald^woiiId 
Aey  protect  him?  Thev  would  not.  Would  they  run 
him  for  mayor  again?  Never!  Could  the  public  be  in- 
duced to  vote  for  him  with  all  the  churches  fulminating 
against  private  immorality,  hypocrites,  and  whited  sepul- 
chersr  Oh,  Lord!  (Mi,  Lord  I  And  he  was  so  very,  very 
much  respected  and  looked  up  to — that  was  the  worst  of 
it  aU.  This  terrible  demon  G>wperwood  had  descended 
on  hini,  and  he  had  thought  hinueU  ao  tecure.  He  had  not 
evrn  been  civil  to  Cowperwood.  What  if  die  latter  dioie 
to  avenge  the  discourtesy? 

Mr.  Sluss  went  back  to  his  chair,  but  he  could  not  sit 
m  it.  He  went  for  his  coat,  took  it  down,  hung  it  up  again, 
took  it  down,  announced  over  the  'phone  that  he  could  not 
see  any  one  for  several  hours,  and  went  out  by  a  private 
door.  Wearily  he  walked  along  North  Qark  Street,  look- 
mg  at  the  hurly-burly  of  traffic,  looking  at  the  dirty, 
crowded  river,  looking  at  the  sky  and  smoke  and  gray 

and  wondering  what  he  should  do.  The  worid  was  so 
hard  at  times;  it  was  so  cruel.  His  wife,  his  family,  his 
pwtical  career.  He  could  not  conscientiously  sign  any 
onbnances  for  Mr.  Cowperwood— that  would  be  immoral, 
dishonest,  a  scandal  to  the  city.  Mr.  Cowperwood  was  a 
notorious  traitor  to  the  public  welfare.  At  the  same  time 
he  <»uld  not  very  well  refuse,  for  here  was  Mrs.  Brandon, 
wie  diarming  and  unscrupulous  creature,  playing  into  the 
hands  of  Cowperwood.  If  he  could  only  meet  her,  beg  of 
her,  plead;  but  where  was  she?  He  had  not  seen  her  for 
months  and  months.  Could  he  go  to  Hand  and  confess  all  ? 
But  Hand  was  a  hard,  cold,  moral  man  also.  Oh,  Lord  I 
Oh,  Lo  ]|  He  wondered  and  thought,  and  dgh«d  and 
pondered — all  without  avail. 

Pity  the  poor  earthling  caught  in  the  toils  of  the  moral 
law.  In  another  country,  perhaps,  in  another  day,  anodier 
age,  such  a  situation  would  have  been  capable  of  a  tidution, 
one  not  utterly  destructive  to  Mr.  Siuss,  and  not  entirely 
favorable  to  a  man  like  Cowperwood.  But  here  in  the 
UmtMl  States,  here  in  Chicago,  the  ethical  veridci  wodd  afl, 


A  FRANCHISE  OBTAINED 

as  he  knew,  be  lined  up  against  him.  What  Lake  View  would 

think,  what  his  pastor  would  think,  what  Hand  and  all  his 
moral  associates  would  think— ah,  these  were  the  terrible, 
the  incontrovertible  consequences  of  his  lapse  from  virtue. 

At  four  o'clock,  after  Mr.  Sluss  had  wandered  for  hours 
in  the  snow  and  cold,  belaboring  himself  for  a  fool  and  a 
knave,  and  vAuie  Cowperwood  was  sitting  at  his  desk  sign- 
ing papers,  contemplating  a  glowing  fire,  and  wondenng 
whether  the  mayor  would  deem  it  advisable  to  put  in  an 
appearance,  his  office  door  opened  and  one  of  his  trim 
stenograohers  entered  announcing  Mr.  ChafFee  Thayer  Sluss. 
Enter  Mayor  Sluss,  sad,  heavy,  subdued,  shrunken,  a  very 
different  eentleman  from  the  one  who  had  talked  so  cavalier- 
ly over  the  wires  some  five  and  a  half  hours  before.  Gray 
weather,  severe  cold,  and  much  contemplation  of  seemingly 
irreconcilable  facts  had  reduced  his  spirits  greatly.  He 
was  a  little  pale  and  a  little  restless.  Mental  distress  has 
a  reducing,  concealing  effect,  and  Mayor  Sluss  seemed 
somewhat  less  than  his  usual  self  in  height,  wei^t,  and 
thickness.  Cowperwood  had  seen  him  more  than  once  on 
various  political  platforms,  but  he  had  never  met  him. 
When  the  troubled  mayor  cntned  he  aroae  courteously  and 
waved  him  to  a  chair. 

"Sit  down,  Mr.  Sluss,"  he  said,  genially.  "It's  a  dis- 
agreeable day  out,  isn't  it?  I  suppose  you  have  come  in 
regard  to  the  matter  we  were  discussing  this  morning?" 
1  Nor  was  this  cordiality  wholly  assumed.  One  of  the 
primal  instincts  of  Cowperwood's  nature — for  all  his 
chicane  and  subtlety— was  to  take  no  rough  advantage 
of  a  beaten  enemy.  In  the  hour  of  vicrory  he  was  always 
courteous,  bland,  gentle,  and  even  tynq^tdietic;  he  was 
so  to-day,  and  quite  honestly,  too. 

Ma^or  Sluss  put  down  the  high  sugar-loaf  hat  he  wore 
and  said,  grandiosely,  as  was  his  manner  even  in  the  direst 
««remity:  "Well,  you  see,  I  am  here,  Mr.  Cowperwood. 
What  IS  it  you  wish  me  to  do,  exactly?" 

"Nothing  unreasonable,  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Sluss,"  replied 
Cowperwood.  "Your  manner  to  me  this  morning  was  a 
little  brus<jue,  and,  as  I  have  always  wanted  to  have  a 
sensible  private  ulk  with  you,  I  took  this  way  of  getting 
It.  I  should  like  you  to  dismiss  from  your  mind  at  once 

377 


THE  TITAN 

the  dioiq;ht  that  I  am  going  to  take  an  unfair  advantage  of 
you  in  any  way.  I  have  no  present  intention  of  pubU^ung 
vour  correspondence  with  Mrs.  Brandon."  (As  he  said  this 
he  took  from  his  drawer  a  bundle  of  letters  which  Mayor 
Sluss  recognized  at  once  as  the  enthusiastic  missives  which 
he  had  sometime  before  penned  to  the  fair  Claudia.  Mr. 
Sluss  groaned  as  he  beheld  this  mcriminating  evidence.) 

I  am  not  trying,"  continued  Cowperwood,"to  wreck  your 
career,  nor  to  make  ^ou  do  anything  which  you  do  not  fed 
that  you  can  consaentiously  undertake.  The  letters  that 
I  have  here,  let  me  say,  have  come  to  me  quite.by  accident 
I  did  not  seek  them.  But,  since  I  do  have  them,  I  thought 
I  m^t  a«  well  mention  dion  as  a  basis  for  a  posnble  talk 
and  compromise  between  us." 

Cowperwood  did  not  smile.  He  merely  looked  thought- 
fully at  Sluss;  then,  by  way  of  testifying  to  the  truAl- 
ness  of  what  he  had  been  saying,  thumped  t^  letteis  up 
and  down,  just  to  show  that  they  were  real. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Sluss,  heavily,  "I  see." 

He  studied  the  bundle— a  small,  solid  affair— while  Cow- 

Eerwood  '  oked  discreetly  elsewhere.    He  contemplated 
is  own  shoes,  the  floor.  He  nibbed  his  hands  asd  thea 
his  knees. 

Cowperwood  saw  how  completely  he  had  collapsed.  It 
was  ndtculous,  pitiable. 

"Come,  Mr.  Sluss,"  said  Cowperwood,  amiably,  "cheer 
up.  Things  are  not  nearly  as  desperate  as  you  think.  I 
give  you  my  word  right  now  that  nothing  which  you  youiv 
self,  on  mature  thought,  could  say  was  unfair  will  be  done. 
You  are  the  mayor  of  Chicago.  I  am  a  dtizen.  I 
merely  wish  fair  play  from  you.  I  merely  ask  you  to  give 
me  your  word  of  honor  that  from  now  on  you  will  take  no 
part  in  this  fight  which  is  one  of  pure  spite  against  me.  If 
you  cannot  conscientiously  aid  me  in  what  I  consider  to 
be  a  perfectly  legitimate  demand  for  additional  franchises, 
you  will,  at  least,  not  go  out  of  your  way  to  publicly  attack 
me.  I  will  put  these  letters  in  my  safe,  and  there  they  will 
stay  until  the  next  campaien  is  over,  when  I  will  take  them 
out  and  destroy  them.  I  have  no  personal  fe^i^  f^uMt 
y^--«one  in  the  world.  I  do  not  ask  you  to  sign  iuy 
ozdinance  which  the  council  may  pass  giving  me  devaiMid- 

378 


A  FRANCHISE  OBTAINED 

road  rights.  What  I  do  wis*^  you  to  do  at  this  time  it 
to  refrain  from  sdrrina;  up  public  coitiment  against  me, 
espeadly  tf  die  counal  should  see  fiv  to  pass  an  ordinance 
over  your  veto.    Is  that  satisfactory?" 

"But  my  friends?  The  public?  The  Republican  party? 
Don't  you  see  it  is  expected  of  me  that  I  should  wage  some 
form  of  campaign  against  you?"  queried  SIuss,  nervously. 

"No,  I  don't,"  replied  Cowperwood,  succinctly,  "an<* 
anyhow,  there  are  ways  and  ways  of  waging  a  pubUc  cain  - 
paign.  Go  through  the  motions,  if  you  wish,  but  don't  put 
too  much  heart  in  it.  And,  anyhow,  see  some  one  cf  '^'^ 
lawyers  from  time  to  time  when  they  call  on  j-ou.  Judge 
Pickensheets  is  an  able  and  fair  man.  So  is  General  Van 
Sickle.  Why  not  confer  with  them  occasionally  ?•— not  pub- 
Iiclv,  of  course,  but  in  aome  less  conspicuou*  way.  You 
will  find  both  of  them  most  helpful." 

Cowperwood  smiled  encouragu^y,  quite  beneficently, 
and  Chaffee  Thayer  Sluss,  his  pdkicai  liqpes  gone  elimmer« 
ing,  sat  and  mused  for  a  few  momcBtt  m  a  sad  and  hcbkst 
quandary. 

"YcryweU,**  he  said,'at  last,  rubbins  his  hands  feverisldy. 
It  IS  what  I  might  have  aqpected.  I  should  have  known. 
There  is  no  odier  way,  but—**  Hardly  able  to  repress  the 
not  tears  now  burning  beneath  his  eyelids,  the  H<m.  Mr. 
Sluss  picked  up  his  hat  and  left  the  lOom.  Needless  to  add 
that  his  preachings  against  Cowperwood  were  permanently 
silenced. 


CHAPTER  XLV 


CHANGING  HORIZONS 


THE  effect  of  all  this  was  to  arouse  in  Cowpcnvood  the 
keenest  feelines  of  superiority  he  had  ever  yet  enjoyed. 
Hitherto  he  had  fancied  that  hit  enemies  might  worst  him, 
but  at  last  his  path  seemed  deir.   He  was  now  worth, 
all  m  all,  the  round  sum  of  twenty  million  dollars.  His 
art-coUection  had  become  the  most  important  in  the  West 
—perhaps  in  the  nation,  public  collections  excluded.  He 
began  to  envision  himself  as  a  national  figure,  possibly 
even  an  international  one.   And  yet  he  was  coimng  to  fed 
that,  no  matter  how  complete  his  financial  Victory  might 
ultimately  be,  the  chances  were  that  he  and  Aileen  would 
never  be  socially  accepted  here  in  Chicago.   He  had  done 
too  many  boisterous  things— alienated  too  many  people, 
u  was  as  determined  as  ever  to  retain  a  firm  grip  on 
the  Chicago  street-railway  situation.   But  he  was  dis- 
turbed for  a  second  rime  in  his  life  by  the  (thought  that, 
owmj  to  the  complexiries  of  his  own  temperament,  he  had 
married  unhappily  and  would  find  the  situarion  difficult  of 
adjustment.    Aileen,  whatever  might  be  said  of  her  de- 
haenars,  was  by  no  means  as  tractable  or  acquiescent  as  his 
hrst  wife.   And,  besides,  he  felt  that  he  owed  her  a  better 
"°  actually  dislike  her  as  yet; 

though  she  was  no  'onger  soothing,  stimulating,  or  sug- 
gestive to  him  as  she  had  formerly  been.  Her  woes,  be- 
cause of  him,  were  too  many;  her  attitude  toward  him  too 
wnsonous.  He  was  perfectly  willing  to  sympathize  with 
her,  to  regret  his  own  change  of  feeling,  but  what  would 
youf  He  could  not  control  his  own  temperament  any 
more  than  Aileen  could  control  hers. 

The  worst  of  this  situation  was  that  it  was  now  becoming 
complicated  on  Cowperwood's  part  with  the  most  disturb- 

380 


CHANGING  HORIZONS 

ing  thoughts  concerning  Berenice  Fleming.  Ever  since  the 
days  when  he  had  first  met  her  mother  he  had  been  commg 
more  and  more  io  feel  for  the  young  girl  a  soul-stimng 
passion— and  that  without  a  single  look  exchanged  or  a 
single  word  spoken.  There  is  a  static  something  which 
is  beauty,  and  this  may  be  clothed  in  the  habihments  of 
a  ragged  philosopher  or  in  the  silks  and  satins  of  pampered 
coquetry.  It  was  a  suggestion  of  this  beauty  which  is 
above  sex  and  above  age  and  above  wealth  that  shone  in 
the  blowing  hair  and  night-blue  eyes  of  Ber-jnice  Fleming. 
His  visit  to  the  Carter  family  at  Pocono  had  been  a  dis- 
appointment to  him,  because  of  the  apparent  hopelessness 
of  arousing  Berenice's  interest,  and  since  that  time,  and 
during  their  casual  encounters,  she  had  remained  pohtely 
indifferent.  Nevertheless,  he  remained  true  to  his  per- 
sistence in  the  pursuit  of  any  game  he  had  fiwd  uoon. 
Mrs.  Carter,  whose  relations  with  Cowperwood  had  in 
the  past  been  not  whollv  platonic,  nevertheless  attributed 
much  of  his  interest  in  her  to  her  children  and  their  vital 
chance.  Berenice  and  Rolfe  themselves  knew  nothing 
concerning  the  nature  of  their  mother's  arrangements.with 
Cowperwood.  True  to  his  promise  of  orotectorship  and 
assistance,  he  had  established  her  in  a  New  York  apart- 
ment adjacent  to  her  daughter's  school,  arid  where  he 
fancied  that  he  himself  miffht  spend  many  happy  hours 
were  Berenice  but  near.  Proximity  to  Beremcel  ihe 
desire  to  arouse  her  interest  and  command  her  favor! 
Cowperwood  would  scarcely  have  cared  to  admit  to  him- 
self how  great  a  part  this  plaved  in  a  thov.ght  which  had 
recently  been  creeping  into  his  mind.  It  was  that  ot 
erecting  a  splendid  house  in  New  York.  ,  ,        ,  , 

By  degrees  this  idea  of  building  a  New  York  house  had 
grown  upon  him.  His  Chicago  mansion  was  a  costly 
sepulcher  in  which  Aileen  sat  brooding  over  the  woes  which 
had  befallen  her.  Moreover,  aside  from  the  social  defeat 
which  it  represented,  it  was  becoming  merely  as  a  structure, 
but  poorly  typical  of  the  splendor  and  ability  of  his  im- 
aginations. This  second  dwelling,  if  he  ever  achieved  it, 
should  be  resplendent,  a  monument  himself.  In  h» 
speculative  wanderings  abroad  he  hai  teen  "^^■"*5 
great  palaces,  denpMd  with  the  tttnK»st  care,  inik»  two 

381 


THE  TITAN 

housed  the  taste  and  culture  of  generationt  of  men. 
His  art -collection,  m  which  he  took  an  immense  pride, 
had  been  growing,  until  it  was  the  basis  if  not  the  completed 
substance  for  a  very  splendid  memorial.   Already  in  it 
were  gathered  pamungs  of  all  the  important  tchoob;  to 
say  nothmg  of  collections  of  jade,  illumined  missals,  porce- 
lams,  rugs,  draperies,  mirror  frames,  and  a  begiiming  at 
rare  originals  of  sculpture.   The  beauty  of  these  strange 
thmgs,  the  patient  laborings  of  inspired  souls  of  various 
ttmes  and  places,  moved  him,  on  occasion,  to  a  gentle  awe. 
Of  all  individuals  he  respected,  indeed  revered,  the  sincere 
artist.    Existence  was  a  mystery,  but  these  souls  who  set 
themselves  to  quiet  tasks  of  beauty  had  caught  some- 
thing of  which  he  was  dimly  conscious.   Life  had  touched 
a  vision,  their  hearts  and  souls  were  attuned  to 
nreet  harmonies  of  which  the  common  worid  knew  nothing, 
bomnimes,  when  he  was  weary  after  a  strenuous  day,  he 
would  enter— late  in  the  night— his  now  silent  gallery,  and 
turning  on  the  lights  so  that  the  whole  sweet  room  stood 
revealed,  he  would  seat  himself  before  some  treasure,  re- 
flecting on  the  nature,  the  mood,  the  time,  and  the  man 
that  had  produced  it.   Sometimes  it  would  be  one  of  Rem- 
brandt s  melancholy  heads— the  sad  "Portrait  of  a  Rabbi" 
—or  the  sweet  introsoection  of  a  Rousseau  stream.  A 
solemn  Dutch  housewife,  rendered  with  the  bold  fidelity  and 
resonant  enameled  surfaces  of  a  Hals  or  the  cold  elegance 
of  an  Ingres,  commanded  his  utmost  enthusiasm.   So  he 
would  sit  and  wonder  at  the  vision  and  skill  of  the  original 
dreamer,  exdaiimng  at  times:  "A  marvel!  A  marvdr 

At  the  same  rime,  so  far  as  Aileen  was  concerned  things  were 
obviously  shaping  up  for  additional  changes.  She  was  in  that 
peculiar  state  which  has  befallen  many  a  woman— trying  to 
substitute  a  lesser  ideal  for  a  greater,  and  finding  that  the 
ettoit  IS  useless  or  nearly  so.  In  regard  to  her  affair  with 
*-P°/»/«de  from  the  temporary  relief  and  diversion  it  had 
altorded  her,  she  was  beginning  to  feel  that  she  had  made 
a  senous  mistake.  Lynde  was  delightful,  after  his  fashion. 
«e  could  amuse  her  with  a  different  type  of  experience 
from  any  that  Cowperwood  had  to  relate.  Once  they  were 
mtunace  he  had,  with  an  easy,  genial  air,  confetacd  to  all 

383 


CHANGING  HORIZONS 

sorts  of  liaisons  in  Europe  and  America.  He  was  utterly 
pagan — a  faun — and  at  the  same  time  he  was  truly  of  the 
smart  world.  His  open  contempt  of  all  but  one  or  two  of 
the  people  in  Chicago  whom  Aileen  had  secretly  admired 
and  wished  to  associate  with,  and  his  easy  references 
to  figures  of  importance  in  the  East  and  in  Paris  and 
London,  raised  him  amazingly  in  her  estimation;  it 
made  her  feel,  sad  to  relate,  uiat  she  had  bv  no  means 
lowered  hendf  in  tuccumbii^  to  readily  to  hit  fwceful 
charms. 

Nevertheless,  because  he  was  what  he  was — genial,  com- 
plimentary, affectionate,  but  a  playboy,  merely,  and  a  soldier 
of  fortune^,  with  no  desire  to  malce  over  her  life  for  her  on  any 
new  basis-^he  was  now  grieving  over  the  futility  of  this  ro- 
mance which  had  got  her  nowhere,  and  which,  m  all  prob- 
ability, had  alienated  Cowperwood  for  ^ood.  He  was  still 
outwardly  genial  and  friendly,  but  their  relationdiip  was 
now  colored  by  a  sense  of  mistake  and  uncertainty  which 
existed  on  both  sides,  hut  which,  in  AUeen's  caM,  amounted 
to  a  subtle  species  of  soul-torture.  Hidierto  she  had  been 
the  aggrieved  one,  the  one  whose  loyalty  had  never  been 
in  question,  and  whose  persistent  affection  and  faith  had 
been  greatly  sinned  agamst.  Now  all  thit  was  diansed. 
The  manner  in  which  he  had  sinned  ajgainst  her  was  plain 
enough,  but  the^  wav  in  which,  out  of  pique,  she  had  for- 
saken him  was  in  tne  other  balance.  Say  what  Mie  will, 
the  loyalty  of  woman,  whether  a  condition  in  nature  or  an 
evolved  accident  of  sociology,  persists  as  a  dominating 
thought  in  at  least  a  secdon  of  the  race;  and  women  them- 
selves, be  it  said,  are  the  ones  who  most  loudly  and  openly 
subscribe  to  it.  Cowperwood  himself  was  fully  aware  that 
Aileen  had  deserted  him,  not  because  she  loved  him  less  or 
Lynde  more,  but  because  she  was  hurt — and  deeply  so. 
Aileen  knew  that  he  knew  this.  From  one  point  of  view 
it  enraged  her  and  made  her  defiant;  from  another  it 

f;rieved  her  to  think  she  had  uselessly  sinned  against  his 
aith  in  her.  Now  he  had  ample  excuse  to  do  anything  he 
chose.  Her  best  claim  on  him — her  wounds — she  nad 
thrown  away  as  one  throws  away  a  weapon.  Her  pride 
^^oukl  not  let  her  talk  to  him  about  this,  and  at  the  same 
time  ^  ocNiM  not  endure  the  easy,  tderant  mammr  wiA 

383 


THE  TITAN 

which  he  took  it.  His  smiles,  his  forgiveness,  hi* 
times  pleasant  jestmg  were  all  a  horrible  oafense. 

To  complete  her  mental  quandary,  she  was  already 
beemning  to  quarrel  with  Lynde  over  this  matter  of  her 
unbreakable  regard  for  Cowperwood.  With  the  sufficiency 
ot  a  man  of  the  world  Lynde  intended  that  she  should  suc- 
cumb to  him  completely  and  forget  her  wonderful  husband. 
VVhcn  with  him  she  was  apparently  charmed  and  interested, 
yieldmgheraelf  freely,  but  this  was  more  out  of  pique  at 
Cowperwood  •  neglect  than  fiom  any  genuine  passion  for 
L-ynde.  In  spite  of  her  pretensions  of  anter,  her  sneen,  and 
cntiasms  whenever  Cowperwood's  name  came  up,  she  was. 
nevertheless,  hopelessly  fond  of  him  and  identified  with 
him  spintually,  and  it  was  not  long  before  Lynde  began  to 
suspect  this.  Such  a  discovery  is  a  sad  one  for  any  master 
of  women  to  inake.   It  jolted  his  pride  severely. 

You  care  for  him  still,  don't  you?"  he  asked,  with  a 
wry  sniUe,  upon  one  occasion.   They  were  sitting  at  dinner 
m  a  pnvate  room  at  Kinsley's,  and  Aileen,  whose  color  was 
High,  and  who  was  becomingly  garbed  in  metallic-green  silk, 
was  lookme  especially  handsome.   Lynde  had  been  propos- 
in^  that  she  should  make  tpedal  arrangements  to  depart 
with  him  for  a  three-months'  stay  in  Europe,  but  she  would 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  project.   She  did  not  dare, 
buch  a  move  woi'<  I  make  Cowperwood  feel  tliat  she  wat 
alienatmg  herself  torcver;  it  would  give  him  an  *»»Hlttlt 
accuse  to  leave  her. 
*'0h,  it  isn't  that,"  she  had  declared,  in  reply  to  Lvnde't 
\  JUrt  ^on't  want  to  go.    I  can't.    I'm  ncrt  pre- 
pared.   Its  nothing  but  a  notion  of  yours,  anyhow. 
You  re  tired  of  Chicago  becauw  it's  getting  near  spring. 
I  ou  go  and  1 11  be  here  when  you  come  back,  or  I  may  de> 
ade  to  come  over  later."   She  jmiled. 
Lynde  pulled  a  dark  face. 

"Hell I'  he  said.  " I  know  how  it  is  with  you.  You  still 
•tick  to  him,  even  when  he  treats  you  like  a  dog.  You 
pretend  not  to  love  him  when  as  a  matter  of  fact  you're 
mad  about  him.  I've  seen  it  all  along.  You  don't  really 
care  anything  about  me.  You  can't.  You're  too  crazy 
about  htm."  ^ 

"Oh,  shut  up!"  replied  Aileen,  irritated  greatly  for  the 

J84 


CHANGING  HORIZONS 

moment  tvjr  tins  oniUnght.  "You  talk  like  a  fool,  rm 
not  anythine  of  the  sort.  I  admire  him.  How  could  anv 
one  help  it  r"  (At  this  time,  ct  course,  Cowperwood  s 
na'ne  wu  filling  the  dty.)  "He's  a  very  wonderful  man. 
He  was  never  brutal  to  me.  He's  a  fulMied  aun— I'tt 
say  that  for  him." 

By  now  Aileen  had  become  sufficiently  familiar  with 
Lynde  to  criticize  him  in  her  own  mind,  and  even  outwardly 
by  innuendo,  for  being  a  loafer  and  idler  who  had  never 
created  in  any  way  the  money  he  was  so  freely  spendinf. 
She  had  little  power  to  psychologize  concerning  social 
conditions,  but  the  stalwart  constructive  persistence  of 
Cowperwood  along  commercial  lines  coupled  with  the 
current  American  contempt  of  leisure  reflected  iomewtiat 
unfavorably  upon  Lynde,  she  thought. 

Lynde's  face  clouded  still  more  at  this  outburst.  "You 
eo  to  the  devil/'  he  retorted.  "I  don't  get  you  at  aJL 
Sometimes  you  talk  as  though  you  were  fimd  of  me.  At 
other  times  you're  all  wrapped  up  in  him.  Now  you 
either  care  for  me  or  you  don't.  Which  is  it?  If  you're 
so  crazy  about  htm  that  you  can't  leave  home  for  a  mondi 
or  so  you  certainly  can't  care  much  about  me." 

Aileen,  however,  because  of  her  long  experience  with 
Cowperwood,  was  more  than  a  match  for  Lynde.  At  the 
same  time  she  was  afraid  to  let  go  of  him  for  fear  that  she 
should  have  no  one  to  care  for  tier.  She  liked  him.  He 
was  a  happy  resource  in  her  miseiy,  at  least  for  the 
moment.  Yet  the  knowledge  that  Cowperwood  looked 
upon  this  affair  as  a  heavy  blemish  on  her  pristine  soli- 
darity cooled  her.  At  the  thoueht  cS  him  and  of  her  ^i^crfe 
tarnished  and  troubled  career  she  was  very  unhappy. 

"Hell!"  Lynde  had  repeated,  irritably,  "stay  if  you  want 
to.  I'll  not  be  trying  to  over-persuade  you — depend  on  that." 

They  quarreled  still  further  over  this  matter,  and,  though 
they  eventually  made  up,  both  sensed  the  drift  toward  an 
ultimatdy  unsatisfacttay  ooodunoii. 

It  was  one  morning  not  lone  after  dns  that  Cowperwood, 

feeling  in  a  genial  mood  over  nis  affairs,  came  into  Aileen's 
room,  as  he  still  did  on  occasions,  to  finish  dressing  and  pass 
the  time  <d  day. 

13  38s 


THE  TITAN 

"Well,"  he  obterved,  gaily,  zt  1m  ftood  before  the  mimr 
Mjufting  his  collar  and  tie,  "how  aie  vott  and  Lynd»  ait. 

nn^  along  these  days— nicelv?" 

'  Oh,  you  go  to  the  devil!'*  replied  Aileen,  flaring  up  and 
•tnigeUng  with  her  divided  feeluigs,  which  pained  lier  con- 
•tantly.  "If  it  hadn't  been  for  you  there  wouldn't  be  any 
chance  for  your  smarty  'how-^m-I-getdng-alongt.*  I  am 
getting  along  all  right— fine— regardless  of  anj^ing  you 
may  think.  He  s  as  good  a  man  as  you  are  any  day,  and 
better.  I  like  him.  At  least  he's  fond  of  me,  and  that's 
more  than  you  are.  Why  should  you  care  what  I  H  . '  You 

"  I'l""  ^"7.  ^^^^  I  ™*  y*>"  «> me  alone.** 


;"r  ..  »ny^"'"g  o»  »•  Kino.  1  Know  bow  you 

feel.   That's  all  very  good." 

"Oh  yes,  ye^**  she  replied.  "Well,  you  can  keep  your 
fedings  to  yourself.  Go  to  the  devUI  Go  to  the  de^  I 
tell  youP*   Her  eyes  blazed. 

He  stood  now,  fully  dressed,  in  the  center  of  the  rug  be- 
tore  her.  ancj  Aileen  looked  at  him,  keen,  valiant,  handsome 
-Hier  old  frank.  Once  asain  she  regretted  her  nominal 
faithlessness,  and  raged  at  him  in  her  heart  for  his  indiffer- 
dog,"  she  was  about  to  add,  "you  have  no 
heart!  but  she  changed  her  mind.  Her  throat  tightened 
p  ^^.^  wanted  to  run  to  him  and  say: 

Uh,  I'rank,  don  t  you  understand  how  it  all  if,  how  it  all 
came  about P  Won't  you  love  me  again— can't  you?" 
But  she  restrained  herself.  It  seemed  to  her  mat  he 
might  understand— that  he  would,  in  fact— but  that  he 
wou  d  never  again  be  faithful,  anyhow.  And  she  would  so 
gladly  have  discarded  Lvnde  and  any  and  all  men  f  he 
would  only  have  said  the  word,  would  only  have  really 
and  oncerdy  wished  her  to  do  so. 

It  was  one  day  not  long  after  their  morning  quarrel  in 
her  bedroom  that  Cowperwood  broached  the  matter  or 
liymg  in  New  York  to  Aileen,  pointing  out  that  thereby 
1U8  art-collection,  which  was  growing  constantly,  might  be 
more  suitably  housed,  and  that  it  would  give  her  a  second 
opportumty  to  enter  lodal  Ufe. 


CHANGING  HORIZONS 

"So  that  you  can  get  rid  of  me  out  here,"  omimented 
Aileen,  little  knowing  of  Bocnice  Fleming. 

"Not  at  all."  replied  Cowpenrood,  sweetly.  "You  see 
how  things  are.  There's  no  chance  of  our  getting  into 
Chicago  society.  There's  too  much  financial  opposition 
against  me  here.  If  we  had  a  big  house  in  New  York,  such 
as  I  would  build,  it  would  be  an  introduction  in  itself. 
After  all,  these  Oiicagoans  aren't  even  a  snapper  on  the 
real  society  whip.  It  s  the  Easterners  who  set  the  pace, 
and  the  New-Yorkers  most  of  all.  If  you  want  to  say  the 
word,  I  can  tell  this  place  and  we  can  live  down  there, 
part  of  the  time,  anyhow.  I  could  spend  as  much  of  my 
time  with  you  there  as  I  have  been  doing  here — perhaps 
more." 

Because  of  her  loul  of  vanity  Aileen'a  mind  ran  forward 
in  spite  of  herself  to  the  wider  opportunitiet  which  hit 

woras  suggested.  This  house  had  become  a  nightmare  to  her 
— a  place  of  neglect  and  bad  memories.  Here  the  had 
fought  with  Rita  Sohlberg;  here  die  had  teen  society  cmne 
for  a  very  little  while  only  to  disappear;  here  she  had  waited 
this  long  time  for  the  renewal  of  Cowperwood's  love,  which 
was  now  obviously  never  to  be  restored  in  its  original 
glamour.  As  he  spoke  she  looked  at  him  quizzically,  almost 
sadly  in  her  great  doubt.  At  the  tame  time  she  could  not 
help  reflecting  that  in  New  York  ^^ere  n  '  ney  count«>d  for 
so  much,  and  with  Cowperwood's  great  and  growing  wealth 
and  prestige  behind  her,  she  might  hope  to  find  herself 
socially  at  last.  "Nothing  venture,  nothing  have"  had 
always  been  her  motto,  nailed  to  her  mast,  though  her  equip- 
ment for  the  life  she  now  craved  had  never  been  more 
than  the  veriest  make-believe — painted  wood  and  rinsel. 
Vain,  radiant,  hopeful  Aileen  1   Yet  how  was  she  to  know? 

"Very  well,"  she  observed,  finally.  "Do  as  you  like. 
I  can  live  down  diere  aa  at  I  can  hen,  I  preaimw-— 
alone." 

Cowperwood  knew  the  nature  of  her  longings.  He  knew 
what  was  running  in  her  mind,  and  how  futile  were  her 
dreams.  Life  had  tai^t  him  how  fortuitous  mutt  be  the 
circumstancea  which  could  enable  a  woman  of  Aikoi'a 
handicaps  and  defects  to  enter  that  cold  upper  world. 
Yet  for  all  the  courage  of  him,  for  the  very  life  of  him,  he 

387 


THE  TITAN 


couM  not  tell  her.  He  could  not  forget  that  once,  behind 

SpSfJ*"  P«"*'?"V»'y  the  Eastem^IWt 
of  Pemttylvania,  he  had  cried  on  her  shoulder.  Heco^ld 

any  more  than  he  could  deceive  h  mself.  A  New  YmS 
mansion  and  the  dreams  of  social  supiema^  which  she 
might  there  entertain  would  soothe  her  ruffl^y^'^  Ind 

woma  be  neater  Berenice  Fleming.    Say  what  one  will 

nevertheless,  true  and  diaracteristic  of  the  aven^hnmo;' 
bemg,  and  Cowperwood  was  no  exception!  He  £w  it  aU 
hec^c«latedo«.t-hecalcubtedontL«mpk^^ 


CHAPTER  XLVI 


DBFTHS  AND  HEIGHTS  , 

THE  complications  which  had  followed  his  various  sen- 
timental affairs  left  Cowperwood  in  a  quandary  at  tunes 
as  to  whether  there  could  be  any  peace  or  sanstacooo 
outside  dP  imMiogamy,  after  all.   Although  Mrs.  Hand  had 
gone  to  Europe  at  the  crisis  of  her  affairs,  she  had  returned 
to  seek  him  out.   Cecily  Haguenin  found  many  oppor- 
tunities of  writinghim  letters  and  assuring  him  of  her  un- 
dying affection.   Florence  Cochrane  persisted  m  seemgor 
attempting  to  see  him  even  after  his  mosrest  m  her  began 
to  wane.   For  another  thing  Aileen,  owing  to  the  compli- 
cation and  general  degeneracy  of  her  a£Fain,  had  recendv 
begun  to  drmk.  Owmg  to  die  failure  of  her  affair  witt 
Lynde— for  in  spite  of  her  yieldine  she  had  never  had  any 
real  heart  interest  in  it— and  to  the  cavalier  attitude  with 
^idi  Cowperwood  took  her  disloyalty,  she  had  reached 
that  state  of  speculative  doldrums  where  the  human  animal 
turns  upon  itself  in  bitter  self-analysis;  the  end  with  the 
more  sensitive  or  the  less  durable  is  dissipation  or  even 
death.   Woe  to  him  who  places  his  *'aith  in  illusion — the 
only  reality — and  woe  to  him  who  does  not.    In  one  way 
^  disillusion  with  its  pain,  in  the  other  way  regret. 

After  Lynde's  departure  for  Europe,  whither  she  had 
refused  to  follow  him,  Aileen  took  up  with  a  secondary 
pers(mage  by  the  name  of  Watson  Skeet,  a  sculptor.  Un- 
like most  a/tists,  he  was  the  solitary  heir  of  the  president 
of  an  immense  fumiture-manufacturins  company  in  iHhich 
he  refused  to  take  any  interest.  He  had  studied  abroad, 
but  had  returned  to  Chicago  with  a  view  to  propagating 
art  in  the  West.  A  lane,  blond,  »oft-fleshed  man,  he  had  a 
kind  of  archaic  naturalness  and  simplicity  which  appealed 
to  Aileen.  They  had  met  at  the  Rhees  Gricfi^.  Feeling 

389 


THE  TITAN 

henelf  neglected  after  Lynde's  departure,  and  dreadins 
loneliness  above  all  things,  Aileen  became  intimate  with 
bkeet,  but  to  no  mtense  mental  satisfaction.  That  driving 
standard  withui— that  obsessing  ideal  which  requires  that 
all  things  be  measured  by  it— was  still  dominant.  Who 

u  '  J'^Penenced  the  chilling  memory  of  the  better 
thing?  How  It  creeps  over  the  spirit  of  one's  current 
dreams  1  Like  the  st  erter  at  the  banquet  it  stands,  its 
su^anceless  eyes  viewing  with  a  sad  philosophy  the  make- 
shift feast.  The  what-mieht-have-been  of  her  life  with 
Cowpetwood  walked  side  by  side  with  her  wherever  she 
went.  Once  occasionally  indulging  in  cigarettes,  she  now 
smoked  almost  constantly.  Once  Wly  sipping  at  wines, 
cocktails,  brandy-and-soda,  she  now  took  to  the  latter,  or, 
"k-  UK*n»^        whisky-and-soda  combination  known  as 

highball  with  a  kind  of  vehemence  which  had  little  to  do 
with  a  taste  for  the  thing  itself  True,  drinking  is,  after 
au,  a  state  of  mind,  and  not  an  appetite.  She  had  found 
on  a  number  of  occasions  when  she  had  been  quarrelins  with 
Lynde  or  was  mentally  depressed  that  in  partaking  of 
these  dnnks  a  sort  of  warm,  speculative  indiflfcrence  s^zed 
upon  her.  She  was  no  longer  so  sad.  She  might  ciy, 
but  It  was  in  a  soft,  rainy,  relieving  way.  Her  sorrows 
were  as  strange,  enticing  figures  in  dreams.  They  moved 
about  and  around  her,  not  as  things  actually  identical  with 

Sr^U  K  il '    "^^'5^  «  »  distance.  Some- 

times  both  she  and  they  (for  she  saw  herself  also  as  in  a 
kind  of  mirage  or  inverted  vision)  seemed  beings  of  another 
5  tK.  t  5"'  not  bitterly  painful.   The  old  nepenthe 

of  the  bottle  had  seized  upon  her.   After  a  few  aca^tal 

Ik^  l!'  uuu^  -^^  >;  ^-^ed  as  a  solace  or  sedarive, 

u  "  ^»sio"ed  Itself  to  her  as  a  resource.  Why 
should  she  not  dnnk  if  it  r-lievec'  her,  as  it  actually  did, 

m^EXff   !2f*  P'.'"'    '^^^'^  ^ere  apparently 

no  bad  after-effects.  The  whisky  involved  was  dSuted  to 
an  almost  watery  state.  It  was  her  custom  now  when  at 
home  alone  to  go  to  the  butler's  pantry  where  the  liquors  were 
stored  and  prepare  a  dnnk  for  herself,  or  to  order  a  tray 
^ricf„t'l°"  P'/?*^ Cowpem^ 

SS.  jX ^Jt^u^^T''     V'?  P'*''^"^^  the  face 

that  the  drank  heavily  at  table,  commented  upon  it. 

990 


DEPTHS  AND  HEIGHTS 


"You're  not  taking  too  much  of  that,  are  you,  Aileen?" 
he  questioned  one  evening,  watching  her  drink  down  a 
tumbler  of  whisky  and  water  as  she  sat  contemplating  a 
pattern  of  needlework  with  ^ich  the  table  was  orna- 
mented. 

"Certainly  I'm  not,"  she  replied,  irritably,  a  little 
flushed  and  thick  of  tongue.  *'Why  do  you  ask?^  She 
herself  had  been  wondering  whether  in  the  course  of  time 
it  might  not  have  a  depreciating  effect  on  her  complexion. 
This  was  the  only  diing  that  still  omcerned  fefer— her 
beauty. 

"Well,  I  see  you  have  that  bottle  in  your  room  all  the 
time.  I  was  wondering  if  you  might  not  be  foigetdng  how 
much  you  are  using  it." 
Because  she  was  so  sensitive  he  was  trying  to  be  tactful. 
"Well,"  she  answered,  crossly,  "what  if  I  am?  It 
wouldn't  make  any  particular  difference  if  I  did.  I  might 
as  well  drink  as  do  some  other  things  that  are  done." 

It  was  a  kind  of  satisfaction  to  her  to  bait  him  in  this  wa^. 
His  inquiry,  being  a  proof  of  continued  interest  on  his 
part,  was  of  some  value.  At  least  he  was  not  entirely 
mdifferent  to  her. 

"I  wish  you  wouldn't  talk  that  way,  Aileen,"  he  replied. 
"I  have  no  objection  to  your  drinking  some  I  don't  sup- 
pose it  makes  any  difference  to  you  now  w.iether  I  object 
or  not.  But  you  are  too  good  -  looking,  too  well  set  up 
physically,  to  begin  that.  You  dcm't  need  it,  and  it's  sura 
a  short  road  to  hell.  Your  state  isn't  so  bad.  Good 
heavens!  many  another  woman  has  been  in  your  p%>sition. 
I'm  not  going  to  leave  you  unless  you  want  to  leave  me. 
I've  told  you  that  over  and  over.  I'm  just  sorry  people 
change — ^we  all  do.  I  suppose  I've  changed  some,  but 
that's  no  reason  for  your  lettuig  yourself  go  to  pieces.  I 
wish  you  wouldn't  be  desperate  about  this  busineis. 
It  may  come  out  better  than  you  think  in  the  long  run." 
He  was  merely  talking  to  console  her. 
"Oh!  oh  I  oh!"  Aileen  suddenly  began  to  rock  and  cry 


break,  and  Cowperwood  got  up.   He  was  horrified  after 

a  fashion. 

"Oh,  don't  come  near  me!"  Aileen  suddenly  exclaimed, 


in  a  foolish  drunken 


would 


591 


THE  TITAN 

sobering  in  an  equally  strange  way.  "I  know  why  you 
come.  1  icnow  how  much  you  care  about  me  or  my  looks. 
Don  t  you  worry  whether  I  drink  or  not.  I'll  drink  if  I 
please,  or  do  any  thing  else  if  I  choose.  If  it  helps  me  over 
my  diftculties,  that  s  my  business,  not  yours,"  and  in  de- 
tiance  she  prepared  another  glass  and  drank  it 

Cowperwood  shook  his  head,  looking  at  her  steadily  and 
sorrowfully.  "It's  too  bad,  Aileen,"  he  said.  "I  don't 
know  what  to  do  about  you  exactly.  You  oughtn't  to  go 
on  this  way.  Whisky  won't  get  you  anywhere.  It  ^ 
b^i^am'"*"         ^"^^^  miserable  in  the 

"Oh,  to  hell  with  my  looks!"  she  snapped.  *'A  lot  of 
good  they  ve  done  me."  And,  feeling  contentious  and  r  ^  \ 
she  got  up  and  left  the  table.  Cowperwood  followed  her 
after  a  time,  only  to  see  her  dabbing  at  her  eyes  and  nose 
with  powder.  A  half- filled  glass  of  whisky  and  water 
IIJ!„;"f  r  ^r%»«n«-taWe  beside  her.  It  gave  him  a 
strange  feeling  of  responsibility  and  helplessness. 

Mingled  with  his  Juixiety  as  to  Aileen  were  thoughts  of 
the  alternate  nse  and  fall  of  his  hopes  in  connectiS  with 
Beremce.  bhe  was  such  a  superior  giri,  developing  so  defi- 
nitely  as  an  individual.  To  his  satisfaction  she  had,  on 
a  tew  recent  occasions  when  he  had  seen  her,  unbent  suffix 
ciendy  to  talk  to  him  in  a  friendly  and  even  intimate  way, 
tor  she  was  by  no  means  hoity-toity,  but  a  thinking,  lea- 
soning  being  of  the  profoundest  intdlectual,  or,  rather,  the 
hiehest  artistic  tendencies.  She  was  so  care-free,  living  in 
a  high  and  solitary  worid,  at  times  apparently  enwrapt  in 
thoughts  serene,  at  other  times  sharing  vividly  in  the  cur- 
rent interests  of  the  social  worid  of  which  she  was  a  part, 
andwhich  she  dignified  as  much  as  it  dignified  her. 

J  ^  morning  at  Pocono,  in  late  June  weather, 
when  he  had  come  East  to  rest  for  a  few  days,  and  all  was 
still  and  airy  on  the  high  ground  which  the  Carter  cottage 
occupied,  Berenice  came  out  on  the  veranda  where  Cowdmw 

r^l'^L""!!!^'  a  fiscal  report  of  one  of  hisc^- 

paniM  and  meditating  on  his  affairs.  By  now  they  had 
h«Dome  somewhat  more  sympatica  than  formerly,  and 
wSf*?  I"  easy,  genial  way  in  his  presence.  She 
likfid  him.  rather.  WtA  an  bdescribable  smile  which 

39» 


DEPTHS  AND  HEIGHTS 


wrinkled  her  nose  and  eyes,  and  played  about  the  comers 
of  her  mouth,  she  said: 
"Now  I  am  going  to  catch  a  bird." 
"A  what?"  asked  Cowperwood,  looking  up  and  pretend- 
ing he  had  not  heard,  though  he  had.  He  was  all  eyes  for 
any  movement  of  hers.  She  was  dressed  in  a  nouncy 
moming  gown  eminently  suitable  for  the  world  in  which 
she  was  moving. 

"A  bird,"  she  replied,  with  an  airy  toss  of  her  head. 
*'This  is  June-time,  and  the  sparrows  are  teaching  their 
young  to  fly." 

Cowperwood,  previously  engrossed  in  financial  specula- 
tions, was  translated,  as  by  the  wave  of  a  fairy  wand,  into 
another  realm  where  birds  and  fledglings  and  grass  and  the 
light  winds  of  heaven  were  more  important  than  brick  and 
stone  and  stocks  and  bonds.  He  got  up  and  followed  her 
flowing  steps  across  the  grass  to  where,  near  a  clump  of 
alder  bushes,  she  had  seen  a  mother  sparrow  enticing  a 
fledgling  to  take  win^.  From  her  room  up-stairs  she  had 
been  watching  this  bit  of  outdoor  sociology.  It  suddenly 
came  to  Cowperwood,  with  great  force,  how  comparatively 
unimportant  in  the  great  drift  of  life  were  his  own  aflPairs 
when  about  him  was  operative  all  this  splendid  will  to  exist- 
ence, as  sensed  by  her.  He  saw  her  stretch  out  her  hands 
downward,  and  run  in  an  airy,  graceful  way,  stooping  hcfC 
and  there,  while  before  her  fluttered  a  baby  sparrow,  until 
suddenly  she  dived  quickly  and  then,  tuming,  her  face 
agleam,  cried:  "See,  I  have  himl  He  wants  to  fight,  too! 
Oh,  you  little  dear!" 

She  was  holding  "him,"  as  she  chose  to  characterize  it, 
in  the  hollow  of  her  hand,  the  head  between  her  thumb  and 
forefinger,  with  the  forefinger  of  her  free  hand  petting  it 
the  while  she  laughed  and  kissed  it.  It  was  not  so  much 
bird-love  as  the  artistry  of  life  and  of  herself  that  was  moving 
her.  Hearing  the  parent  bird  chirping  distractedly  from 
a  near-by  limb,  she  tumed  and  called:  *' Don't  make  such 
a  row!    I  sha'n't  keep  him  long." 


can  scarcely  Wame Tier,"  he  commented. 

**0h,  she  knows  well  enough  I  wouldn't  hurt  him,"  Bere- 
ice  replied,  spin  edly,  as  though  it  were  literally  true. 


Cowperwood  laughed 


the  moming  sun.  "You 


393 


THE  TITAN 

you  wTthStV"^****^  Ompem^.   "Why  do 

♦l,r;?nif'      ^™*-„  J^now  when 

their  children  are  really  in  danger?" 

"But  why  should  they?"  persisted  Cowperwood,  charmed 
and  interested  by  the  involute  character  of  her  logic.  She 
tho'ujh?*  He  could  not  be  wire 

"n^*^  fixed  him  a  moment  with  her  cool,  slate-blue 
eves.  Do  you  think  the  senses  oftheworid  are  only  fiver 
«T„5!S  '  T  charming  and  non-reproachlil  way. 

JjliSi  *j  y  ^"""^  well  enough.  She  knows."  She 
turned  and  waved  a  graceful  hand  in  the  direction  of  the 

one  knows  I  am  not  a  cat. 

Again  that  enticing,  mocking  smile  that  wrinkled  her 
nose,  her  eye-comers,  her  mouth.  The  word  /'cat"  had  a 
sharp,  sweet  sound  in  her  mouth.  It  seemed  to  be  bitten 
^do^ly  with  force  and  airy  spirit.  Cowperwood  sur- 
veyed  her  as  he  would  have  surveyed  the  ablest  person  he 

rnm«o«!r!lf       ^  ^%f^^»  who  could  and  would 

command  the  utmost  reaches  of  his  soul  in  every  direction. 
If  he  interested  her  at  all,  he  would  need  them  all.  The 
eyes  of  her  were  at  once  so  elusive,  so  direct,  so  friendlv  so 

S^LSlJme  "  7°"  "'"J^"*  inte/eSigjXS 
to  interest  me,  they  seemed  to  say;  and  yet  they  were  bv 

"""-^  ur'  »PP=?P"*ly'  to  a  hearty  camaraderie. 
nuli^Vtr^u^^'^^^^  "'^  H«e  was  by  no 

SS^S  nn.  *"*t  ""T'  ?°".y^^  *  Sohlberg.  He 
CWh»n.  -^''u       ^'^^         "»'>»>y'  or  Florence 

'      ^"'y,  Haguenin.   Here  was  an  iron  indi- 

Tnd  1^^  H    *  u"*       "i^^""^  '^"l  philosophy 

aHrX,^?.?r"  "^^^  '^4^^  beginning  to  think  mere  than 
man  »>e  an  extraordinary 

man,  her  mother  said  so,  and  the  newspapers  were  alwai4 
mentioning  h,s  name  and  noring  his  movemSiw  ^ 
mntuJ^UA  Southampton,  whither  she  and  her 

mother  had  gone,  they  met  again.  Together  with  a  young 
Sy^  i^X  °f  Greandle,  G,wpe?wood  and  BeL^ 
had  tone  into  the  sea  to  bathe.  It  was  a  wonderful  after- 


DEPTHS  AND  HEIGHTS 

noon.  To  the  east  and  toudi  and  west  spread  the  sea,  a 
crinkling  floor  of  blue,  and  to  their  left,  as  they  faced  it, 
was  a  lovely  outward-curvine  shore  of  tawny  sand.  Study- 
ing Berenice  in  blue-silk  bauiing  costume  and  shoes,  Cow- 

Kerwood  had  been  stung  by  the  wonder  of  passing  life — 
ow  youth  comes  in,  ever  fresh  and  fresh,  and  age  goes  out. 
Here  he  was,  long  crowded  yezn  of  conflict  and  ^experi- 
ence  behind  him,  and  yet  this  twenty-year-old  girl,  with 
her  incisive  mind  and  keen  tastes,  was  apparently  as  wise 
in  matters  of  general  import  as  himself.  He  coura  find  no 
flaw  in  her  armor  in  those  matters  which  they  could  dis- 
cuss. Her  knowledge  and  comments  were  so  ripe  and  sane, 
despite  a  tendency  to  pose  a  little,  which  was  quite  within 
her  rights.  Because  Greanelle  had  bored  her  a  little 
she  had  shunted  him  oflF  and  was  amusing  herself  talking 
to  Cowperwood,  who  faadnated  her  by  us  oompact  in- 
dividuality. 

"Do  you  know,"  she  confided  to  him,  on  this  occasion, 
"I  get  so  very  tired  of  young  men  sometimes.  They  can 
be  so  inane.  I  do  declare,  they  are  nothing  more  than 
shoes  and  ties  and  socks  and  canes  strung  together  in  some 
unimaginable  wayr.  Vaughn  Greanelle  is  for  all  the  world 
like  a  perambulating  manikin  to-day.  He  is  iust  an  Eng- 
lish suit  with  a  cane  attached  wallung  about. 

"Well,  bless  my  aoul,"  conuneBted  Cbwpenrood,  "what 
an  indictment  r* 

"It's  true,"  she  replied.  "He  knows  nothing  at  all  ex- 
cept polo,  and  the  latest  swimming-stroke,  and  where  eveiy- 
body  is,  and  who  is  going  to  marry  who.    Isn't  it  duU?^' 

She  tossed  her  head  back  and  breathed  at  though  to 
exhale  the  fumes  of  the  dull  and  the  inane  from  Imr  inmost 
being. 

"Did  you  tdl  him  diat?"  inquired  Cowperwood,  curi- 
ously. 

|;Certainly  I  did." 

"I  don't  wonder  he  looks  so  solemn,"  he  said,  turning 
and  looking  back  at  Greanelle  and  Mrs.  Cri.ter;  they  were 
sitting  side  by  side  in  sand-chairs,  the  former  beating  the 
sand  with  his  toes.  "You're  a  curioua  girl,  Berenice/'  he 
went  on,  familiarly.   "You  are  so  direct  and  vital  at  times." 

"Not  any  more  than  you  are,  from  all  I  can  hear,"  ^e 

595 


THE  TITAN 

replied,  fixing  him  with  thow  neady  eyes.  "Anyhow, 
why  should  I  be  bored?  He  is  so  dull.  He  f  >llow8  roe 
around  out  here  all  the  time,  and  I  don't  want  iiim." 

bhe  tossed  her  head  and  began  to  run  up  the  beach  to 
where  bathers  were  fewer  and  fewer,  looking  back  at 
Lowperwood  as  if  to  say,  "Why  don't  you  follow?"  He 
developed  a  burst  of  enthusiam  and  ran  quite  briskly, 
i" ^  "^^^  shallows  where,  becaun  of  a  sand- 
bar offshore,  the  waters  were  thin  and  bright. 

'■S^iktiM  O^'ht 

She  dashed  in  to  where  a  few  feet  offshore  a  small  school 
ot  minnows  as  large  as  sardines  were  playing,  silvery  in  the 
sunjShe  ran  as  she  had  for  the  bird,  doing  her  best  to 
tngtiten  them  into  a  neighboring  pocket  or  pool  farther  up 
on  the  shore.  Cowperwood,  as  gay  as  a  boy  of  ten,  jdned 
m  the  chase.  He  raced  after  them  briskly,  losing  one 
•chooi,  but  pocketing  another  a  little  farther  on  and  call- 
in|^  to  her  to  come. 

•Oh  r  exclaimed  Berenice  at  one  point.  "Here  they  an 
now.   Come  quick!  Drive  them  in  hereP* 

Her  hair  was  blowy,  her  face  a  keen  pink,  her  eyes  an 
electric  blue  by  contrast.  She  was  bending  low  over  the 
water-Kx)wperwood  also— their  hands  outstretched,  the 
hsh,  some  five  m  all,  nervously  dancing  before  them  in  their 
ettorts  to  escape.  All  at  once,  having  forced  them  into  a 
comer,  they  dived ;  Beremce  actually  caught  one.  Cowper- 
wood missed  by  a  fracdon,  but  drove  the  fidi  the  did  catch 
into  her  hands. 

iJl^"  ^^r  ^'^la^e/j'  jumping  up,  "how  wonderful! 
It  8  alive.    I  caught  it." 

She  danced  up  and  down,  and  Cowperwood.  standing 
before  her,  was  sobered  by  her  charm.  He  felt  in  impulse 
to  speak  to  her  of  hu  affectun,  to  tell  her  how  delidoiu  ahe 
was  to  him. 

"You,"  he  said,  pausing  over  the  word  and  giving  it 

S^^i  rfTf    V  y*>»       t»»  only  thing  here  thtt  » 
wmderful  to  me.  * 

She  looked  at  him  a  moment,  the  live  fish  in  her  extended 

hands,  her  eyes  keyme  to  the  situation.    For  the  least 

fracticm  of  a  moment  she  was  uncertain,  as  he  could  see, 

396 


DEPTHS  AND  HEIGHTS 

how  to  take  this.  Many  men  had  been  approximative  be- 
fore. It  was  common  to  have  compliments  paid  to  her. 
But  this  was  different.  She  said  nothing,  but  fixed  him 
with  a  look  which  said  quite  plainly,  "You  had  better  not 
say  anything  more  just  now,  1  think.**  Then,  seeing  that 
he  understood,  that  his  manner  softened,  and  that  he  was 
troubled,  she  crinkled  her  nose  gaily  and  added:  "It's  like 
fairyland.  I  feel  as  diough  I  had  caught  it  out  of  anodier 
wond.*'  Cowperwood  understood.  The  direct  approach 
was  not  for  use  in  her  case;  and  vet  there  was  something, 
a  camaraderie,  a  sympathy  which  ne  fdt  ai^  whidi  die  Mt. 
A  girls'  school,  conventions,  the  need  of  socially  placing  her- 
self, her  conservative  friends,  and  their  viewpoint— all  were 
working  here.  If  be  were  only  nnde  now,  sne  told  hertdf, 
she  would  be  willing  to  listen  to  nim  in  a  very  different 
spirit,  for  he  was  charming.  But  this  way —  And  he,  for 
his  part,  concluded  that  here  was  one  wmnan  whmn  he  would 
-adly  many  if  the  would  have  him. 


CHAPTER  XLVII 


AMERICAN  MATCH 

FOLLOWING  Cowiwrwood's  coup  in  tecuring  cash  hy 
means  of  his  seeming  gift  of  three  hundred  thousand 
dollars  for  a  telescope  his  enemies  rested  for  a  time,  but 
only  because  <^  a  lack  of  ideas  wherewith  to  dettioy  lum. 
Public  sentiment — created  by  the  newspapers — was  still 
against  him.  Yet  his  franchises  had  still  from  ei^t  to 
ten  years  to  run,  and  meanwhile  he  mif^t  make  himadf 
unassailably  powerful.  For  the  present  he  was  busy, 
surrounded  by  his  ei^ineers  ana  managers  and  legal 
advisers,  constructing  hw  several  elevated  Imes  at  a  whirl- 
wind rate.  At  the  same  time,  through  Videra,  KafFrath, 
and  Addison,  he  was  effecting  a  scheme  of  loaning  nionc/ 
on  call  to  the  local  Chicago  banks-ndhe  very  banks  which 
were  most  opposed  to  him — so  that  in  a  crisis  he  could 
retaliate.  By  manipulating  the  vast  quantity  of  stocks 
and  bonds  of  which  he  was  now  the  master  he  was  makit^ 
money  hand  over  fist,  his  one  rule  beins  that  six  per  cent, 
was  enough  to  pay  any  holder  yrho  had  merely  purchased 
his  stock  as  an  outsider.  It  was  most  profitable  to  him- 
self. When  his  stocks  earned  more  than  that  he  issued 
new  (Hies,  selling  them  <»i  'change  and  pocketing  tne 
difference.  Out  of  the  cash-drawers  of  his  various  com- 
panies he  took  immense  sums,  temporary  loans,  as  it  were, 
y^hich  later  he  had  charged  by  his  humble  servitors  to 
construction,"  "equipment,"  or  "operation."  He  was 
like  a  canny  wolf  prowling  in  a  forest  of  trees  of  his  jwn 
creatKm. 

The  weak  note  in  this  whole  project  of  elevated  lines  was 
that  for  some  time  it  was  destined  to  be  unprofitable.- 
Its  very  cmnpetitiMi  tended  to  weaken  the  vidne  ct  Us 
fuiface'^iae  companies.   His  holding  in         at  well  at 

398 


AMERICAN  MATCH 

in  elevated-road  Aut$  were  immense.  If  anjrthmg  hap- 
pened to  cause  them  to  fall  in  price  immense  numbers  of 
these  same  stocks  held  by  others  would  be  thrown  ca  the 
maricet,  thus  ic31  funlier  depreciating  their  value  and  com- 
pelling him  to  come  into  the  market  and  buy.  With  the 
most  painstakine  care  he  began  at  once  to  pile  up  a  reserve 
in  ^vemment  bonds  for  emeri^ency  purposes,  which  he 
deaded  should  he  not  less  than  eight  or  nine  million  dollars, 
for  he  feared  financial  storms  as  well  as  financial  reprisal, 
and  where  so  mudi  was  at  stake  he  did  not  propose  to  be 
caught  napping. 

At  the  time  that  Cowperwood  first  entered  on  elevated- 
road  construction  there  was  no  evidence  diat  any  severe 
depression  in  the  American  money-market  was  imminent. 
But  it  was  not  long  before  a  new  difficulty  began  to  appear. 
It  was  now  the  day  of  the  trust  in  ^  its  watery  magpufi- 
cence.  Coal,  iron,  steel,  oil,  machinery,  and  a  score  of 
other  commercial  necessities  had  already  been  "trusti- 
fied," and  others,  such  as  leather,  shoes,  cordage,  and  the 
like,  were,  almost  ho<"-ly.  being  brought  under  the  control 
of  shrewd  and  ruthless  m  i.  Already  in  Chicago  Schryhart, 
Hand,  Ameel,  Merrill,  and  a  score  of  others  were  seeing 
their  way  to  amazing  profits  by  underwridng  these  ven- 
tures which  required  ready  cash,  and  to  which  lesser  mas- 
nates,  content  with  a  portion  of  the  leavings  of  Dives  s 
table,  were  glad  to  bring  to  their  attention.^  On  the  othpr 
hand,  in  the  nation  at  larg<  there  was  growing  up  a  feeling 
that  at  the  top  there  were  a  set  of  giants — Titans-^who, 
without  heart  or  soul,  and  without  any  understanding  of 
or  sympathy  with  the  conditidn  of  die  riank  and  file,  were 
setting  forth  to  enchain  and  enslave  them.  The  vast  mass, 
writhing  in  ignorance  and  poverty,  finallv  turned  with 
pathetic  fury  to  the  cure-all  <»  a  political  leader  in  the  West. 
This  latter  prophet,  seeing  gold  becoming  scarcer  and 
scarcer  and  tne  cash  and  credits  of  the  land  falling  into  the 
hands  of  a  few  who  were  manipulating  them  for  dmr  own 
benefit,  had  decided  that  what  was  needed  was  a  greater 
volume  of  currency,  so  that  credits  would  be  easier  and 
money  cheaper  to  come  by  in  the  matter  of  interest.  ^ver» 
of  which  there  was  a  superabundance  in  the  mines,  was 
to  be  coined  at  the  rado  of  sixteen  dollars  of  silver  for  every 

399 


THE  TITAN 

one  of  |old  in  cireulatipn,  and  the  parity  of  tiie  two  metaU 
maintained  by  hat  of  government.  Nev<  again  thodd 
the  few  be  able  to  make  a  weapon  of  the  people'f  medium 
of  exchange  m  order  to  bnng  about  thdr  undoing.  There 
wai  to  be  nple  money,  far  beyond  the  control  of  central 
banks  and  the  men  m  power  over  them.  It  was  a  splendid 
dream  worthy  of  a  charitable  heart,  but  because  of  it  a 
disturbmg  war  for  polirical  control  of  the  government 
wat  shortly  threatened  and  soon  began.  The  mooey 
element,  smsing  the  danger  of  change  involved  in  tlw 
of  the  new  political  leader,  began  to  fight  him  and 
trc  element  m  the  D'imocratic  party  which  he  represented. 
The  rank  and  file  of  both  parties-the  more  or  less  hungry 
jnfjjhjrsty  who  he  ever  at  the  bottom  on  both  sidi^ 
Jfi^j  L  **  *  neaven-sent  deliverer,  a  new  Moses  come 
W<I?1  Vk"  T         wilderness  of  poverty  and  distress. 

A4Si:lf°^^j*Ll*****^  "^^J"  preaches  a  new  doctrine 
Of  deliverance,  and  who.  out  of  tenderness  of  heart,  offers 

thSmi?***  ^  Hit  tndy  ihaU  be  alSiim 

« J^T'*'^^* "en  of  wealth,  was  op- 
posed  to  what  he  deemed  a  crack-brained  idea— that  5 
maintaining  a  parity  between  gold  aad  silver  by  lavf.  Con- 
fiscation was  his  word  for  it--the  confiscation  of  the  wealth 
of  the  few  for  the  benefit  of  the  many.  Most  of  all  was  he 
ntE^ ^  which  was 

Z^IJ^u^  foieAadowed  a  dass  war  in  which  in- 
VMMn  would  run  to  cover  and  money  be  locked  in  stron*. 
Doxes.  At  once  he  began  to  shorten  sail,  to  mvest  only  m 
the  soundest  secunties,  and  to  convert  afl  his  weaker  ones 
uito  cash. 

To  meet  current  emergencies,  however,  he  was  compelled 
to  borrow  heavily  here  and  there,  and  in  doing  so  hewas 
SSi?  that  those  banks  representing  his  enemies  in 
Ji^^  and  elsewhere  were  wilhng  to  accept  his  various 

{S?n5  %  l'  u"*  ^'me  suspecting 

^nd,  Schiyh^rt,  Ameel,  and  Merrill  of  some  scheme  to 
^ck  him,  provndmg  they  could  get  him  where  the  calliBg 

^ilLi^kf*  ^^"'^  financially^ 

omu  bm.     i  thmk  I  know  what  that  crew  are  up  to," 


AMERICAN  MATCH 

he  once  observed  to  Addiaon,  at  thii  period.  "Well,  they 
will  have  to  rite  very  early  in  the  morning  if  they  catch  roe 

"  ^'^e  thing  that  he  suspected  was  really  true.  Schryhart. 
Hand,  and  Ameel,  watcning  him  through  their  agents  and 
brokers,  had  soon  discovered — in  the  very  earliest  phaaet 
of  the  silver  agitation  and  before  the  real  storm  broke^ 
that  he  was  borrowing  in  New  York,  in  London,  in  certain 
quarters  of  Chicago,  and  elsewhere.  "It  looks  to  me, 
said  Schryhart,  one  day,  to  his  friend  Ameel,  "as  if  ouj 
friend  has  gotten  in  a  little  too  deep.  He  has  overreached 
himsdf.  Thmt  elevated-road  schemes  of  his  have  eaten 
up  too  much  capital.  There  is  another  election  comuig  on 
next  fall,  and  he  knows  we  are  going  to  fight  tooth  and  nail. 
He  nMMlt  money  to  electrify  his  surface  fines.  If  we  could 
trace  out  exactly  where  he  stands,  and  where  he  has  bor- 
rowed, we  might  know  what  to  do.**  ,«..•• 

"Unless  I  am  greatly  mistaken,"  replied  Ameel,  he  is  ui 
a  tight  place  or  it  rapidly  getting  there.  This  silver  agita- 
tion is  beginning  to  weaken  stocks  and  tighten  monar. 
I  suggest  uiat  our  banks  here  loan  him  all  the  money  he 
wants  on  call.  When  the  time  comes,  if  he  isn't  ready,  we 
can  shut  him  up  tighter  than  a  drum.  If  we  can  pick  ug 
any  other  loans  he's  made  anywhere  else,  well  and  good. 

Mr.  Axncd  said  this  with*,  it  a  shadow  of  bittemess  or 
humor.  In  some  dgjit  l»ur,  nerfaaps,  now  fast  approadi- 
ing,  Mr.  Cowperwood  would  be  promised  salvation — 
"saved"  on  condidon  that  he  should  leave  Chicago  forever. 
There  were  those  who  would  take  over  his  property  in  the 
interest  of  the  city  and  iqiri^it  government  amd  anmtnmCT 
it  accordingly. 

Unfortunately,  at  this  very  time  Messrs.  Hand,  Schry- 
hart, and  Ameel  were  themselves  concemed  in  a  little 
venture  to  which  the  threatened  silver  a^tation  could  bode 
nothing  but  ill.  This  concemed  so  simole  a  thing  as 
matches,  a  commodity  which  at  this  time,  along  with  many 
others,  had  been  tmstified  and  was  yielding  a  fine  profit. 
"American  Match"  was  a  stock  which  was  already  listed 
on  every  exchange  and  yriddi  was  selling  steadily  around 
one  hundred  mo  tsreaty. 

401 


THE  TITAN 

The  geniuses  who  had  first  planned  a  combination  of  all 
match  concerns  and  a  monopoly  of  the  trade  in  America 
were  two  men,  Messrs.  Hulj  and  Stackpole-banker^d 
brokers  primarily.  Mr.  Phineas  Hull  was  a  small,  fentt- 
like,  calculating  man  with  a  sparse  growth  of  dusty-brown 

^l^       ^i"/^''''^'/^  ^«  partially  par- 

alyzed  and  drooped  heavily,  giving  him  a  characterfiil  and 
yet  at  times  a  sinister  expression. 

Stackpole,  had  been  once  a 
stage-dnver  m  Arkansas,  and  later  a  horse-trader.  He  wai 
a  man  of  ereat  force  and  calculation— large,  oleaginoug. 
politic,  an<r  courageous  Without  the  ultimate  bSTca: 
fll^^t  'I  Merrill,  he  wS, 

wh?/^!  *^'  resourceful  and  able.  He  had  started  somS 
^renJh  hiV«'  T  ^"\^'.»>"t  now,  with  all"ii 
wh;3ri;?k  I"  in^^^vonng  to  bnne  to  fruition  this  plan 
K? r  ^  '^"^  fonnulated.  Inspired 

JKmllvlV;^  ™«c\':ompany,  and  had  then  put 

nth^^  ?u  "  *  '^"^^^  *°  ^"8=^'"  with  the  owners  of 
nlnl  u  j"?  processes  controlled  by  one  com- 

i^Cia^ftl^^'T^^^     ana  the  field  had 

n..fr^J  ^'^^^        °f  °>oney  had  ^>een  re- 

quired, much  more  than  was  m  possession  of  either  Hull 

r^i?J?*?P°*'-  '^^g  Western  men,  they 

i^d  M.^"S  '°  ""P''=*K  "^"'l'  Schryhart,  ArneeJ 

t^f  rSI^T."  'Vi"  *PP"^«^  great  blocks  of 

the  new  stock  were  sold  to  them  at  inside  figures.    By  the 

PaTn'. "^r"^'^  combination  proceeded  ajace 
sid«  ?n/°/l,r*5     7  ^"J^^n  °^er  from  all 

Jmlll'nt  1  ^  'i^^  of  invading  Europe  and  eventually  con- 
trolling  the  market  of  the  world  had  its  inception.  At  the 
same  time  it  cKcurred  to  each  and  all  of  their  lordly  patrons 
chSed  «  foiv^V  ^P'-^'l5hmg  if  the  stock  the/hSd  ^ur- 
kef  at  HI  u^'a^'V^T'^'''^  "^""^        se"'n6 open  mar- 

dred  where  ff  Slf^  '^tlS^'  ^^''Y^^  «°  '°  hun- 
urea,  wnere,  it  these  monop<Hlstic  dreamii  w*r»  .V 

STcf'^Hitehis^^  Httie'^jrVthrLT^^^^^^ 

n^ht^^  A«i  I'X'^i""*  splendid-would 
notbeamist.   And  ao  there  began  a  quiet  campaign  on  the 


AMERICAN  MATCH 

part  of  each  capralist  to  gather  enough  of  it  to  realize  a 
true  fortune      tti'  riat. 

A  game  of  this  kind  is  ne  /er  played  with  the  remainder 
of  the  financ^l  commur,it>  entirely  unaware  of  what  is  on 
foot.  In  the  rmei  circle  of  brokerage  life  rumors  were 
soon  abroad  that  a  £;r>.rnendou8  boom  was  in  store  for 
^erican  Match.  Cowperwood  heard  of  it  through  Ad- 
dison, always  at  the  center  of  financial  rumor,  and  the 
two  of  them  bought  heavily,  though  not  so  heavily  but 
that  they  could  dear  out  at  any  time  with  at  least  a  slight 
margin  m  their  favor.  During  a  period  of  eight  months 
the  stock  slowly  moved  upward,  finally  crossii^  the  two- 
hundred  mark  and  reaching  two-twenty,  at  ^^ch  ficure 
both  Addison  and  Cowperwood  sold,  realizing  neai^  a 
million  between  them  on  their  investment. 

In  the  mean  time  the  foreshadowed  political  storm  was 
brewing.  At  first  a  cloud  no  larger  than  a  man's  hand, 
It  matured  swiftly  in  the  late  months  of  1895,  and  by  the 
spring  of  1896  it  had  become  portentous  and  was  ready 
to  burst.  With  the  climacteric  nomination  of  the  "Apostle 
of  Free  Silver"  for  President  of  the  United  States,  which 
followed  in  July,  a  chill  settled  down  over  the  conservative 
and  financial  elements  of  the  country.  What  Cowperwood 
had  wisely  proceeded  to  do  months  before,  others  less  far- 
seeing,  from  Maine  to  California  and  from  die  Gulf  to 
Canada,  began  to  do  now.  Bank-deposits  were  in  part  with- 
drawn; feeble  or  uncertain  securities  were  thrown  upon 
the  market.  All  at  once  Schryhart,  Amee!,  Hand,  and 
Merrill  realized  that  they  were  in  more  or  less  of  a  trap 
in  regard  to  didr  lar;e  holdings  in  American  Match. 
Having  gathered  vast  quantiries  of  this  stock,  which  had 
been  issued  in  blocks  of  millions,  it  was  now  necessary  to 
sustain  the  market  or  sell  at  a  loss.  Since  money  was 
needed  by  many  holders,  and  this  stock  was  selling  at  two- 
twenty,  telegraphic  orders  htSQU  to  pour  in  from  all  parts 
of  the  country  to  sell  on  die  Chicago  Exchange,  where  die 
deal  was  being  engineered  and  where  the  market  obviously 
existed.  All  of  the  instigators  of  the  deal  conferred,  and 
decided  to  sustain  the  market.  Messrs.  Hull  and  StaclE- 
pole,  being  the  nominal  heads  of  the  trust,  were  delegated 
to  buy,  they  in  turn  calling  on  the  principal  investors  to 

403 


THE  TITAN 

take  their  share,  pro  rata.  Hand,  Schiyhart,  Ameel.  and 
Mernll,  weighted  with  this  inpouring  flcid  of  stock  wWch 
&c1?  u^""  twcKtwenty,  hurried  to  their  favoritJ 
banks,  hypothecating  vast  quantities  at  one-fifty  and  ovw 
and  using  the  monev  so  obtained  to  take  care  of  th«  ad! 
ditional  shares  which  they  were  compelled  to  buy. 

At  last,  however,  their  favorite  banks  were  full  to  over, 
flowing  and  at  the  danger- point.   They  could  take  io 

*nh^^'  ""'t  *°  HuU  over  the 

l^WH    ll""  ^  5'^  f*°""     ^^^^  venture,  and 

iur?,  Lll  '  *  ^'^'^  proposition.  I  realize  all  its  merits 
just  as  well  as  you  do.  But  enough  is  enough.  I  tell  you 
a  financial  slump  is  coming.   That's  the  ^ason  all  th°s 

t"«sts  in  Z'ffK- ^  to  protect  my  in! 

terests  m  this  thing  up  to  a  certain  point.    As  I  told  you, 

thafTnow      '^""l  ^  f*'^".^"  ^«  market  of  al 

othir  r„Ti         •  that  I  cannot  do.  The 

Shi^X;  u'*"'  agreement  will  have  to  protect 

JunnVthf^^'        '^''y.         ^  things  fo  look 

Z^c^%r^f  "  "^«-»*  ^      »d  than 
It  was  the  same  with  Mr.  Schryhart,  who,  stroking  a  criso 
throt  rr^'t''  ^.^^.wondering  whetier  hi  hS  not  bett?; 

he TaS%h?''  '^^''^ra^  ^l^"  °"t;  however 

ne  feared  the  rage  of  Hand  and  Ameel  for  bieakinit  the 
market  and  thus  bringing  on  a  local  panic  irJSJIisW 
business.   Ameel  and  IVferriU  finally  agreed  to  hSd  fi^ 

TnJA-V^^^t^'*  "^^y        Mr.  HuU,  nothiS 

could  induce  them  to  "protect"  another  Aare,  c^'St 

fn  this  crisig  naturally  Messrs.  Hull  and  Stackpole- 
estimable  gentlemen  both-were  greatly  depresW 

their .lofty*^4s7fhei^^^^^^^ 
tortunea  were  m  much  greater  jeopardy.   They  were  eager 

W^l  of'SL^n'^i"  ^^r^  V  Witneirth^nX 
arm^JofBenon.  Stackpole  at  the  office  of  Frank  Algernon 

He  was  at  the  end  of  his  tether,  anlcow- 

perwood  was  the  only  really  rich  man  in  the  dty  not  yet 

Heard  both  Hand  and  Schiyhart  say  that  they  did  not 


AMERICAN  MATCH 


care  to  become  involved  if  Cowperwood  was  in  any  way, 
shape,  or  manner  to  be  indudea,  but  that  had  been  over 
a  year  ago,  and  Sdiryhart  and  Hand  were  now,  as  it  were, 
leaving  both  him  and  his  partner  to  their  fates.  They  could 
have  no  objection  to  his  dealing  with  Cowperwood  in  this 
crisis  if  he  could  make  sure  that  die  magnate  would  not  sdl 
him  out.  Mr.  Stackpole  was  six  feet  one  in  his  socks  and 
weighed  two  hundred  and  thirty  pounds.  Clad  in  a  biown 
linen  suit  and  straw  hat  (for  it  was  late  July),  he  carried 
a  palm-leaf  fan  as  well  as  his  troublesome  stocks  in  a  small 
yellow  leather  bae.  He  was  wet  with  perspiration  and  in 
a  glooniy  state  of  mind.  Faflure  was  stanne  him  in  the 
face — giant  failure.  If  American  Match  fell  below  two 
hundred  he  would  have  to  close  his  doors  as  banker  and 
broker  and,  in  view  of  what  he  was  carrying,  he  and  Hull 
would  fail  for  approximately  twenty  million  dollars. 
Messrs.  Hand,  Schiyhart,  Ameel,  and  Merrill  would  lose 
in  the  neighboHiood  of  six  or  ei^ht  millions  between  them. 
The  local  banks  would  suffer  m  proportion,  though  not 
nearly  so  severely,  for,  loaning  at  one-taftv,  they  would  only 
sacrifice  the  difference  between  diat  and  the  hmest  pcnnt 
to  which  the  stock  might  fall. 

Cowperwood  eyed  the  new-comer,  when  he  entered,  with 
an  equivocal  eye,  for  he  knew  well  now  what  was  coming. 
Only  a  few  days  before  heJiad  ptedi<^  an  eventual  smaum 
to  Addison. 

"Mr.  Cowperwood,"  began  Stackpole,  "in  this  bag  I 
have  fifteen  thousand  shares  of  American  Match,  par  value 
one  million  five  hundred  thousand  dollars,  market  value 
three  million  three  hundred  thousand  at  this  moment, 
and  worth  everv  cent  of  three  hundred  dollars  a  share 
and  niore.  I  dcm't  know  how  closely  you  have  been 
following  the  developments  of  American  Match.  We 
own  all  the  patents  on  labor-saving  machines  and,  ^at's 
more,  we're  just  a^xmt  to  dose  contracts  'jHth  Italy 
and  France  to  lease  our  machines  and  processes  to 
them  for  pretty  nearly  one  million  dollars  a  year  eadi. 
We're  dickering  widi  Aiistriak  md  &i^and,  and  of  coune 
we'll  take  up  other  countries  later.  TTie  American 
Match  Companv  will  yet  make  matches  for  the  whole 
^rid,  idiedier  rm  ommected  widi  it  or  not.  This 

m 


i 


THE  TITAN 

ver  agitation  has  caught  us  right  in  mid-ocean,  and  we're 
having  a  httle  trouble  weathei.ng  the  storm.  I'm  a 
perfectly  frank  man  when  it  comes  to  close  business  rela- 
tions of  this  kind,  and  I'm  going  to  tell  you  just  how 
things  stand.  If  we  can  scull  over  this  rough  place  that 
has  come  up  on  account  of  the  silver  agitation  our  stock 
will  go  to  three  hundred  before  the  first  of  the  year.  Now 

h.mSr.7^"'/cf**^/,i*  you  can  have  it  outright  at  one 
hundred  and  fifty  doUars-that  is,  providing  you'll  agree 

r2? J^k'''™''  ^"        "^^'^^^  before  ne« 

Uecember;  or,  if  you  Wt  promise  that"  (he  paused 

^cn^^wi  any  chance  he  could  read  Cowperwood's  in- 
fifl^  5  f  ^  want  you  to  loan  me  one  hundred  and 

hfty  doUars  a  share  on  these  for  thirty  days  at  least  at  ten 
or  htteen,  or  whatever  rate  you  care  to  fix  " 
thnZhS^irS^  interlocked  his  fingers  aiid  twiddled  his 
diZ.lL  *^^*^^««nP  «e<»  this  latest  evidence  of  earthly 
hf^eiS  f ""<^e«^'nty.  Time  and  chance  certainly 
happened  to  all  men,  and  here  was  one  opportunity  of 

fiVllt^^lf  ^  one-fifty  on  loan  and  pedTle  it  out  swiftly  and 

^umhHnr^T.?  ""^^l^         American  Match 

crumbling  about  their  ears.    When  it  was  selling  at  one- 

ht^A^J^"^  ''".y  P^'^'^^t      profit,  complete 

Hke  thl  w5l       S'^^-J^P^t'  P°^,^et  his  interest, 'and  simile 

lif^Ji-   T""^^'*  T      .'^^  I*        as  simple  as 

^"^/^it^fii  K*""?bs,  which  he  was  now  doing.  ^ 

Who  has  been  backing  this  stock  here  in  Chicago  besides 

5?atTlV"5  asked,  pleasantly.^' I  S 

fa^L' o"  '  like  to  be  iirt^n  if  you 

<:.r?°"f  least,"  replied  Mr. 

easii?'''"T»,'^^*  ^  thought,';  commented  awperwood, 

one  thJna^r  A"  ^^"^"^^  St^ckpole,  dully.  "But  theie't 
N^  T3?,i  have  to  stipulate  in  accepting  a  loan  on  these. 
hefo«  T  kit T-f J*  ^       ™"ket, or,  at  least, not 

before  I  have  failed  to  respond  to  your  caU.  Ihayeuatow 

406 


AMERICAN  MATCH 

stood  that  vhere  is  a  little  feeling  between  you  and  Mr. 
Hand  and  the  other  gentlemen  I  have  mentioned.  But, 
as  I  say — and  I'm  talking  perfectly  frankly  now — I'm  in  a 
comer,  and  it's  any  port  in  a  storm.  If  you  want  tc  help 
me  I'll  make  the  best  terms  I  cm,  and  I  wMi't  forget  die 
favor." 

He  opened  the  bag  and  began  to  take  out  the  securities — 
long  greenish-yellow  bundles,  tightly  gripped  in  the  center 
by  thick  elastic  bands.  They  were  in  bundles  of  one 
thousand  shares  each.  Since  Stackpole  half  proffered  them 
to  him,  Cowperwood  todc  them  in  <me  hand  and  lig^itly 
weighed  them  up  and  down. 

"I'm  iorry,  Mr.  Stackpde,"  he  said,  sympathetically, 
after  a  moment  of  apparent  reflection,  but  I  cannot 
possibly  help  you  in  this  matter.  I'm  too  involved  in  other 
things  myself,  and  I  do  riot  often  indulge  in  stock-specula- 
tions of  any  kind.  I  have  no  {^articular  malice  toward  any 
one  of  the  gentlemen  you  mention.  I  do  not  trouble  to  dis- 
like all  who  dislike  me.  I  might,  of  course,  if  I  chose,  take 
these  stocks  and  pay  them  out  and  throw  them  on  the 
market  to-morrow,  but  I  have  no  desire  to  do  anjrthine  of 
the  sort.  I  only  wish  I  could  help  you,  and  if  I  thought  I 
could  carry  them  safely  for  three  or  four  months  I  would. 
As  it  is — "  He  lifted  his  eyebrows  sympathetically. 
"Have  you  tried  all  the  bankers  m  town?" 

"  Practically  every  one." 

"And  they  can't  help  you?" 

|They  are  carrying  all  they  can  stand  now.** 

"Too  bad.  I'm  sorry,  very.  By  the  wav,  do  you 
happen,  by  any  chance,  to  know  Mr.  Millard  Bailey  or 
Mr.  Edwin  Kaffrath?" 

''No,  I  don't,"  replied  Stackpole,  hopefully. 

"Well,  now,  there  are  two  men  who  are  much  richer  than 
IS  generally  supposed.  They  often  have  very  large  sums 
at  their  disposal.  You  might  look  them  up  on  a  chance. 
Then  there's  my  friend  Videra.  I  don't  know  how  he  is 
fixed  at  present.  You  can  always  find  him  at  the  Twelfth 
Ward  Bank.  He  might  be  inclined  to  take  a  good  portion 
of  that — I  don't  know.  He's  much  better  off  than  most 
people  seem  to  think.  I  wonder  you  haven't  Immi  directed 
to  some  one  of  these  men  before."   (As  a  matter  of  fact, 

407 


THE  TITAN 

BO  one  of  the  individuals  in  question  ^uld  have  been 
mtejsted  to  take  a^doUar  of  tfJis  loan  except  on 

^^^^  r  Pnmiiiieiitly  identified  with  thf 

«!!^n"t^°"7^^i""''^;  ^  1^"'"  observed  Stackpole. 
restonng  his  undesired  stocks  to  his  bag.  ^F««» 

T**  admirable  show  of  courtesy. 
Se  hnm^'"Sf  ^P''^'*  ^d  pretended  to  secure  for  his  guS 
Mr  fe^?**"'***  fentlemen.   He  then  We 

mii  farewell.    The  distrait  pro. 

moter  at  once  deaded  to  try  not  only  Bailey  and  KaffraSi 
bi^  Videra;  but  even  as  he  drove  toward  4  ^c^TS 

h^rb7S"^^n?^'^  ™  p«-»"y  busy^S^: 

w^'IiIk       Bailey,"  he  called,  when  he  had  secured  the 
"Yes"    ^  '  ^  bere  to  see  me  just  now." 

MlISthL'^?,I.!!li"^'''r  'J'T*"'*  shares  of  American 
M«^-PM  value  one  hundred,  market  value  to^lay 

"Yes." 


on^fifty  " ^  hypothecate  the  lot  or  any  part  of  it  at 
"Yes." 

doii'Tyou^r  American  Match  is, 

by  a  tin  JampiigS/"  up  to  where  it  i.  now 

'Yes." 

AM?^^1  '^'"^       ^°       ^bis  man  five  hundred  thoonod 
trEd«;-„"'?T'l°'^     ^  "conunend  that  lie 

^"  B...  F    ^*^T^  or  Anton  Videra  for  the  balance." 
«...    V  \  ^^"^^^  ^  hundred  thousand  to 

■pwe.   You  say  American  Match  is  going  to  bust." 

Tn,«  J  G;;-^*^'^" il'i.^"'  '^^^^  ^beck  on  the  Chicago 
fe^  S  .Cf  i »V  Se.id  the  stock  to  me  aid 
foUet  all  about  It.   I  will  do  the  rest.   But  under  no  diw 


AMERICAN  MATCH 

cumstances  mention  my  name,  and  don't  appear  too  eager. 
Not  more  than  one-twenty  at  the  outatde,  do  you  hear?  and 
less  if  you  can  get  it.  Yott  leoogniie  my  voice,  do  you  Y* 
"Perfectly.'*^ 

"Drive  over  afterward  if  you  have  tune  and  let  me  know 

what  happens."  .       ,    .  i-. 

"Very  good,"  commented  Mr.  Bailey,  m  a  busmesshke 

WSIV» 

Cowperwood  next  called  for  Mr.  Kaffrath.  Conversing 
to  similar  effect  with  that  individual  and  with  Videra, 
before  three-quarters  of  an  hour  Cowperwood  had  arranged 
completely  for  Mr.  Stackpole's  tour.  He  was  to  have  his 
total  loan  at  one-twenty  or  less.  Checks  were  to  be  forth- 
coming at  once.  Different  banks  were  to  be  drawn  on — 
banks  other  than  the  Chicago  Trust  Company.  Cowpw- 
wood  would  see,  in  some  roundabout  way,  that  these  dieckfl 
were  promptly  honored,  whether  the  cash  was  there  or  not. 
In  each  case  the  hypothecated  stocks  were  to  be  sent  to 
him.  Then,  having  seen  to  the  perfecting  of  this  httle 
programme,  and  that  the  banks  to  be  drawn  upon  in  this 
connection  understood  perfecdy  that  the  checks  in  que». 
tion  were  guaranteed  by  him  or  others,  he  sat  down  to 
await  the  arrival  of  his  henchmen  and  the  tuming  m  the 
stock  into  his  private  saife.- 


CHAPTER  XLVIII 

PANIC 


ON  August  4,  1896,  the  city  of  Chicago,  and  for  that 
,  "i^  L^""  l^^  ^"^'"^  financial  ^rld,  was  start  ed  and 
stTon'^i.'^^f''''  o/.  American  Match  one  of  thS 

SErs  HuTub^f'rT'-""*^  the  coincident  failure 
mentTSniSnt  1  ^'^^f  P°J«'  ostensible  promoters,  for 
twenty  nwUions.  As  earlv  as  eleven  o'clock  of  the  oreced- 
ng  day  the  banking  and  Brokerage  world  of  Chicago  Sad- 
waVon  f^i^f''^''^'  fully  aware^that  somethinTuS'owJ^ 
7ri£?J^u  ^nnection  with  it.  Owing  to  the  high  price 
at  i^ich  the  stock  was  "protected,"  and  fhe  need  oKey 
to  liquidate,  blocks  of  this  stock  from  all  parts  S  ?£ 

realiwng  before  the  ultimate  break.    About  the  stock-ex- 

U  Sfll'e  Wt  'iST^        *         fortress 'at 
fcn  '  u        exatement— as  though  a  giant  ant- 

hu  ried  t^and"frn"^  disturbed  Clerks  and  m^senge^s 
rect"ons  Bm  Jl?  ""  ^onf^sed  and  apparently  aimless  di- 
been  ann^r.^.!  u^°^^  j"PPly  of  American  Match  had 
been  apparently  exhausted  on  the  previous  day  now  an- 
peared  on  'change  bright  and  early,  and  at  the  cfana  of  3m 

Er'^F"  ?  ^^^-^  'hr^^^  «  sizable  o«  of  frS  f  ^o 
hundred  to  five  hundred  shares.  The  agents  of  Hull  & 
Stackpole  were  u,  the  market,  of  course,  In  ?he  fnmt  rank 
™raTfcr"S.^  throng,  taking'up  whatS^r  sSck 
mC  Drom^J.^  J    •  W'""^     maintain.  The 

Si^fSS;  to  •  '"""^^^       P'^^ne  and  wire  not  only 

bduced  to  ""P°«ant  personages  whom  they  haS 

various  c£rl«  /„  ^4  .campaign,  but  with^heir 

^t  d^nm^J^  U^t''''  "".  change.    Naturally,  under 

lou  game  was  no  longer  moving  m  Aow  laige,  easy  sweeps 

410 


PANIC 

which  characterize  the  more  favorable  aspects  of  hi^h 
finance.  Sad  to  relate,  as  in  all  the  troubled  flumes  of  life 
where  vast  currents  are  cmnpresaed  in  narrow,  tortuous 
spaces,  these  two  men  were  now  concerned  chiefly  with  the 
momentary  care  of  small  but  none  the  less  heartbreaking 
burdens.  Where  to  find  fifty  thousand  to  take  care  of 
this  or  that  bu'-den  of  stock  which  was  momentarily  falling 
upon  them  ?  They  were  as  two  men  called  upon,  with  their 
limited  hands  and  strength,  to  seal  up  the  ever-increasine 
crevices  of  a  dike  beyond  which  raged  a  mountainous  and 
destructive  sea. 

At  eleven  o'clock  Mr.  Phineas  Hull  rose  from  the  chair 
which  sat  before  his  solid  niah(^any  desk,  and  confronted 
nis  partner. 

"I'll  tell  you,  Ben,"  he  said,  "I'm  afraid  we  can't  make 
this.  We've  hypothecated  so  much  of  this  stock  around 
town  that  we  can't  possibly  tell  who's  doing  what.  I  know 
as  well  as  I'm  standing  on  this  floor  that  some  one,  I  can't 
say  which  one,  is  semng  us  out.  You  don't  suppose  it 
could  be  Cowpenrood  or  any  of  those  people  he  sent  to 
us,  do  youf* 

Stackpole,  worn  by  his  experiences  of  the  past  few  weeks, 
was  inclined  to  be  irritable. 

"How  should  I  know,  Phineas?"  he  inquired,  scowling 
m  troubled  thought.  "I  don't  think  so.  I  didn't  norice 
any  signs  that  they  were  interested  in  stock  -  gambling. 
Anyhow,  we  had  to  have  the  money  in  some  form.  Any 
one  of  the  ndiole  crowd  is  apt  to  get  frightened  now  at  any 
moment  and  throw  the  timg  over.  We're  in  a  ddtit 
place,  that's  plain." 

For  the  fortieth  dme  he  plucked  at  a  too-tight  collar  and 
pulled  up  his  shirt-sleeves,  for  it  was  stifling,  and  he  was 
coatless  and  waistcoatless.  Just  then  Mr.  Hull's  telephone 
bell  rang— the  one  connecting  with  the  firm's  private  oflice 

**"«v*"sS\   .  j"mp«J  to  aeiae  the  lecdver. 

^  Yesr  he  inquired,  irritably. 

"Two  thousand  shares  of  American  offered  at  two- 
twenty!   Shall  I  take  them?" 

The  man  who  was  'phoning  was  in  sight  of  another  man 
who  stood  at  the  railing  of  the  brokers'  gallery  overlooking 
the  pit,  or  central  room  of  the  ttock<«udbaiige,  and  who 

4" 


THE  TITAN 


instantly  transferred  any  sign  he  might  receive  to  the  man 
on  the  floor.  So  Mr.  HulPt  "yea''  or  "nay"  would  be 
almote  imtaatly  transmuted  into  a  cash  tfamactiott  on 
'diange. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?"  asked  Hull  of  Stackpole. 
putdi^  his  hand  over  the  receivei^s  mouth,  his  right  eyelid 
droopine  heavier  than  ever.  "Two  thousand  more  to  take 
up!   Vyiiere  d'you  suppose  they  are  coming  from?  Tch!" 

"Well,  the  bottom  s  out,  that's  all,"  replied  Stackpole, 
heavily  and  eutturally.  "We  can't  do  what  we  can't  do. 
I  say  this,  though:  support  it  at  two-twenty  until  tJiiee 
o'clock.  Then  we'll  figure  up  where  we  stand  and  what 
we  owe.  And  meanwhile  I'u  see  what  I  can  do.  If  the 
banks  won't  help  us  and  Ameel  and  diat  crowd  want  to 
eet  from  under,  we'll  fail,  that's  all;  but  not  before  I've 
had  one  more  try,  by  Jerichol  They  may  not  help  us, 
but—" 

Acti  'y  Mr.  Stackpole  did  not  see  what  was  to  be  done 
unlttfs  .essrs.  Hand,  Schtyhart,  Merrill,  and  Ameel  were 
wiffing  to  risk  much  more  money,  but  it  grieved  and 
aneered  him  to  think  he  and  Hull  should  be  thus  left  to 
sink  without  a  sigh.  He  had  tried  Kaffrath,  Videra,  and 
Baflqr,  but  they  were  adamant.   Thus  cogitating,  Stack- 

f ole  put  'I  his  wide-brimmed  straw  hat  and  went  out. 
t  was  '.r  -*rly  ninety-six  in  the  shade.  The  granite  and 
asphalt  pavements  of  the  down-town  district  reflected  a 
dry,  Turkish-bath-room  heat.  There  was  no  air  to  speak 
of.  The  sky  was  a  burning,  milky  blue,  with  the  sun  eleam- 
ine  fevershlv  upon  the  upper  walls  of  the  tall  buildings. 

Mr.  Hand,  in  his  seventh-story  suite  of  offices  in  the 
Rookery  Building,  was  suffering  from  the  heat,  but  much 
more  fnmi  mentu  perturbation.  Thoueh  not  a  stingy  or 
penurious  man,  it  was  still  true  that  of  all  earthly  things  he 
suffered  most  from  a  financial  loss.  How  often  had  he  seen 
chance  or  miscalculation  sweep  apparently  strong  and 
valiant  men  into  the  limbo  of  the  lueless  and  forgotten  1 
Since  the  alienarion  c^hit  wife's  aiFections  by  Cowperwood, 
he  had  scarcely  any  interest  in  the  world  outside  his  large 
financial  holdinn,  which  included  profitable  investments 
in  a  half-hundicd  companiea.  But  thev  must  pav,  pay, 
pay  Iwavily  in  interest— all  of  than— and  the  thowipit  wat 

412 


PANIC 

on2  of  them  might  ^^ecome  a  failure  or  a  drain  on  hit 
sources  was  enough  to  give  him  an  almost  physical  sensa- 
tion of  dissatisfaction  and  unrest,  a  sort  of  spiritual  and 
mental  nausea  which  would  ding  to  him  for  days  and  days 
or  until  he  had  surmounted  the  difficulty.  Mr.  Hand  had 
no  least  comer  in  his  heart  for  failure. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  die  rituatkm  in  regard  to  Amencm 
Match  had  reached  such  proportions  as  to  be  almost 
numbing.  Aside  from  the  fifteen  thousand  shares  which 
MessTfl/HuIl  and  Stackpole  had  originany  set  aside  for 
themselves,  Hand,  Ameel,  Schryhart,  and  Mernll  had 
purchased  five  thousand  shares  each  at  forty,  but  had 
nnce  been  compelled  to  suatain  die  mariMt  to  l»e  extent  ci 
over  five  thousand  shares  more  each,  at  prices  ranging  from 
one-twenty  to  two-twenty,  the  largest  blocks  of  shares 
having  been  bought  at  tne  latter  teure.  Actually  Hand 
was  caught  for  nearly  one  million  nve  hundred  thousand 
dollars,  and  his  soul  was  as  gray  as  a  bat's  wing.  At  fifty- 
seven  years  of  age  men  who  are  used  only  to  the  most 
successful  financial  calculations  and  the  credit  that  goes 
with  unerring  judgment  dread  to  be  made  a  marie  by 
chance  or  fate.  It  opens  the  way  for  comment  on  their 
possibly  failing  vitality  or  Judgment.  And  so  Mr.  Hand 
sat  on  this  hot  August  anemoon,  ensconced  in  a  large 
carved  mahogany  chair  in  the  inner  recesses  of  his  inner 
offices,  and  brooded.  Only  this  morning,  in  the  face  of  a 
falling  market,  he  would  have  sold  out  openly  had  he  not 
been  deterred  by  telephone  messages  from  Ameel  and  Schry- 
hart suggesting  the  advisability  of  a  pool  conference  be- 
fore any  acrion  was  taken.  Come  what  might  on  the  mor- 
row, he  was  determined  to  quit  unless  he  saw  some  dear 
way  out — to  be  shut  of  the  whole  thing  uhless  the  in- 
genuity of  Stackpole  and  Hull  should  discover  a  way  <rf 
sustaining  the  market  without  his  aid.  While  he  was 
meditaring  on  how  this  was  to  be  done  Mr.  Stackpole  ap- 
peared, pale,  gloomy,  wet  with  perspiration. 

"Well,  Mr.  Hand,"  he  exclaimed,  wearily,  "I've  done 
all  I  can.  Hull  and  I  have  kept  the  market  fairlv  stable 
so  far.  You  saw  what  happened  between  ten  and  eleven 
this  morning.  The  jig's  up.  We've  borrowed  our  last 
dollar  a'  '  nypothecated  our  last  share.   My  personal 

413 


THE  TITAN 

fortune  has  gone  into  the  balance,  and  so  has  Hull's.  Some 
oneof  the  outside  stockholders,  or  all  of  them,  are  cuttmc 
the  ground  from  under  us.  Fourteen  thounad  Aut$  mi 
teno  dockthuinomuigl  That  tells  the  story.  It  can't  be 
dOM  jtttt  now-Dot  unless  you  gentlemen  are  prepared  to  go 
much  further  than  you  have  yet  gone.  If  we  could  organize 
*  ^St    c*    L  *       ^*  fifteen  thousand  more  shares— 

Mr.  Stackpole  paused,  for  Mr.  Hand  was  holding  up  a 
fat,  pink  digit.  *  *^ 

"No  moK  of  that,"  he  was  saying,  solemnly.  " It  can't 
l»e  done.  I,  for  one,  won't  sink  another  dollar  in  this 
proposition  at  this  time.   I'd  rather  throw  what  I  have 

on  the  market  and  take  whati  can  get.  lamtuietheotheif 
feel  the  same  way.  - 

Mr.  Hand,  to  play  safe,  had  hypothecated  neatly  aB  luf 
shares  with  vanous  banks  in  order  to  release  his  money 
for  other  purpoKs,  and  he  knew  he  would  not  dare  to  throw 
over  all  his  holdings,  just  as  he  knew  he  would  have  to  make 
food  at  the  figure  at  which  they  had  been  maisiiied.  But 
It  was  a  fine  threat  to  make. 

Mr.  Stackpole  stared  ox-like  at  Mr.  Hand. 
Very  well,   he  said,  "I  might  as  weU  go  back,  then. 

°!1  t"f/T^  We  bought  fourteen 

thousand  shares  and  held  the  market  where  it  is,  but  we 
haven  t  a  doUar  to  pay  for  them  with.  Unless  the  banks 
blmkSl*^ *^  over  for  tts  we're  gone— we're 

Mr.  6and,  who  knew  that  if  Mr.  Stackpole  carried  out 
this  decision  it  meant  the  loss  of  his  one  million  five  hundred 

J  same  with  all  of  them,"  replied  Stackpole,  now 
quite  desperate,  "as  it  »  with  you.  They  have^  they 
can  carry-^"«ry  one.    It's  this  damned  silver  agitatioa-- 

SSV-^'i'  L^^l^n^H  'P^*'*'*  "othing  tRe  matter 
witb  this  stock.  It  win  right  Itself  in  a  few  months.  It's 
rare  to. 

*'WiU  itr  commented  Mr.  Hand,  sourly.   "That  de- 

ESi*.^         ^PP^  .n«t  November."    (He  was  re- 
temog  to  the  oomnig  national  eleetioii.) 

414 


PANIC 

"Yes,  I  know,"  sighed  Mr.  Stackpole,  seeing  that  it  was 
a  condition,  and  not  a  theory,  that  connonted  nim.  Then, 
niddenly  clenchins  his  right  hand,  he  exclaimed,  "Damo 
that  upstart!"  (He  was  thinking  of  the  "Apostle  of  Free 
Silver/')  "He's  the  cause  of  aU  this.  Well,  if  there'r 
nothing  to  be  dcme  I  might  as  w^  be  going.  There's  all 
those  snares  we  bought  to-day  which  we  ought  to  be  sble 
to  hypothecate  with  somebody.  It  would  be  something  if 
we  could  get  even  a  hundred  and  twmty  on  them." 

"Very  true,"  replied  Hand.  "I  wish  it  could  be  done. 
I,  personally,  cannot  sink  any  more  monev.  But  why 
don't  you  go  and  see  Sdiryhart  and  Ameeli'  I've  been 
talking  to  them,  and  they  seem  to  be  in  a  position  similar 
to  my  owt.;.  but  if  they  are  willing  to  confer,  I  am.  I  don't 
see  what's  to  be  daut,  but  it  ms  .  i  :  ^hat  all  of  us  together 
might  arrange  some  way  of  hekw...  off  the  slaughter  of 
the  stock  to-morrow.  I  don't  know.  If  only  we  don't 
have  to  suffer  too  great  a  decline." 

Mr.  Hand  was  thinking  that  Messrs.  Hull  and  Stackpole 
might  be  forced  to  part  with  all  their  remaining  holdings  at 
fifty  cents  on  the  ooUar  or  less.  Then  if  it  could  possibly 
be  taken  and  carried  by  the  united  banks  for  them  (Schijr- 
hart,  himself,  Ameel)  and  sold  at  a  profit  later,*  he  and  his 
associates  might  recoup  some  of  their  losses.  The  local 
banks  at  the  behest  of  th«  big  quadnimvirate  might  be 
coerced  inn>  straining  their  resources  ■tiB  findwr.  But 
how  was  this  to  be  dooe?  Ham,  ukked? 

It  was  Schryhart  who,  in  pumping  and  digging  at  Stad* 

Eole  when  he  finally  arrived  there,  managed  to  extract  from 
im  the  truth  in  regard  to  his  visit  to  Cowperwood.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  Sch^art  Iramdf  kMi  beat  guilty  this  very 
day  of  having  thrown  two  thousand  shares  of  American 
Match  on  the  market  unknown  to  his  confreres.  Naturally, 
he  was  eager  to  leam  whether  Stackpole  or  any  eoe  cbe  had 
the  least  suspicion  that  he  was  involved.  As  a  consequence 
he  questioned  Stackpole  closely,  and  the  latter,  beuig 
anxious  as  to  the  outcome  of  his  own  interests,  was  not  UB- 
willing  to  make  a  clean  breast.  He  had  the  justificatitm  in 
hit  own^  mind  that  die  quadnimvirate  had  been  ready  to 
demt  kun  i^^oii^ 

41$ 


THE  TITAN 

"Why  did  you  go  to  him?"  exclaimed  Schryhart.  oro- 
fessmg  to  be  greatly  astonished  and  annoyed,  as,  Sd^T 

S  the  beginnmg  that  under  no  circumstances 
^he  to  be  included  m  any  portion  of  this.  You  S 
as  well  go  to  the  devil  himself  for  aosistance  as  go  theil " 
At  the  same  time  he  was  thinking  "How  fortunate!"  Here 
^  ofiy  a  loophole  for  himself  in  connectfon  with  h  s 
«<le-Pjays,  but.abo.  if  the  quadruSvirate 
of  H^fl  rSt^dkH^  d-ertuj^  tmublime  (onm^ 

J'^^'ui  ^'■"^'J  replied  Stackpole,  somewhat 
tte±^  k"^  Thurs/ay  I  hfd  K 

thousand  thaiM  on  which  I  had  to  raise  money  NeSher 
you  nor  any  of  the  others  wanted  any  more  ThrhM.£ 

wouldn't  take  them.  I  caUed  up  Ra^baiS  on  a  iSc^^ 
he  suggested  Cowperwood."        -«"a«a  on  a  cnance^  and 

As  has  been  related,  Stackpole  had  teaUy  cone  to  Ctmoer. 
J^ertTntii"  *       ""^^  cUc^SSSS^SS 
"Rambaud I"  sneered  Schryhart.   "Cowperwood's  man 

.  Y°%«>uldn't  hSvVg^e  t"" 
u       l"**-.  So  that's  where  this  stock 
^ n?"'  ^'^y^"^  ^  *^«"ht.    That  feilow  or  his 

L««»k     •  ^  y**""*  through,  are  youf-not 

another  single  tnck  to  turn?"  ywur— not 

in  pSL'»? ?  '       ^'^^i   ^ "^"^         mo«t  unwisely 

Schryhart's  idea,  like  that  of  Hand,  was  to  cause  Hull  & 
f£W      "i'"^"!'**  ^»  *»^eir  holdings  for  SodiJng  to 

itTorofil    Ai.  ''^      ^^TP'^'^y  organized 

ILinL  r™^  the  same  time  he  was  intensely  r^tful 

PlaiSv  thfit^l^'*-  *  if  »»-^e  done. 

SkJLY'I  P«««nt  cnsis  had  something  to  do  with  him. 
Schiyfcart  waa  quick  to  call  up  Hand  Imd  ibiS  S 

416 


PANIC 

Stackpole  uud  gone,  suggesting  a  conference,  and  together, 
an  hour  later,  at  Ameel's  office,  they  foregathered  along 
with  Merrill  to  discuss  this  new  and  very  interestins  de- 
velopment. As  a  matter  of  fact,  during  die  ooune  ot  die 
afternoon  idl  of  these  gendemen  had  been  growing  more  and 
more  uneasy.  Not  that  between  them  they  were  not 
eminendy  capable  of  taking  care  of  their  own  losses,  bnt 
the  sympathetic  effect  of  such  a  failure  as  this  (twenty 
millkm  dollars),  to  say  nothing  of  its  reacdon  upon  the 
honor  of  themselves  and  the  city  as  a  financial  center,  was 
a  most  unsatisfactory  if  not  disastrous  thing  to  contemplate, 
and  now  this  matter  of  Cowperwood's  havmg  gained  Hand- 
somely by  it  all  was  added  to  their  misery.  Both  Hand  and 
Ameel  growled  in  opposition  when  they  heard,  and  Merrill 
meditated,  as  he  usually  did,  mi  die  wimder  of  Cowper* 
wood's  subtlety.   He  could  not  help  liking  him. 

There  is  a  sort  of  municipal  pride  latent  in  the  bosoms 
of  most  members  of  a  really  thriving  community  whidi 
often  comes  to  the  surface  under  the  most  trying  circum- 
stances. These  four  men  were  by  no  means  an  exception 
to  this  rule.  Messrs.  Sdiri^iart,  Hand,  Ameel,  and  Mer- 
rill were  concerned  as  to  ;the  good  name  of  Qiicago  and 
their  united  standing  in  the  eyes  of  Eastern  financiers. 
It  was  a  sad  blow  to  them  to  think  that  the  <me  great 
enterpnse  they  had  recently  engineered — a  foil  to  some 
of  the  immense  affairs  which  nad  recently  had  their 
geneses  m  New  York  and  elsewhere— should  have  come  to 
so  untimely  an  end.  Chicago  finance  really  should  not  be 
put  to  sj'^"™*  *n  tWs  fashion  if  it  could  be  avoided.  So  that 
when  Mr.  Schryfaart  arrived,  quite  warm  and  disturbed, 
and  related  in  detafl  what  he  had  just  learned,  his  friends 
ustaed  to  him  widi  eager  and  wary  ears. 

?  between  five  and  six  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 

and  still  blazing  outside,  though  the  walls  of  the  buildings 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  were  a  cool  gray,  picked 
out  with  pools  of  black  shadow.  A  newsboy's  strident  voice 
was  heard  here  and  there  calling  an  extra,  mingled  with  the 
sound  of  bomtBg  feet  and  stree^car•-Cowperwood's 
street-cars. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,"  said  Schryhart,  finally.  "It 
teems  to  nw  we  have  stood  just  about  CDougli  of  thn  inaii't 
U  417 


THE  TITAN 


steir^trnS^  no, 
and  us  open  to  just  S  a  ,Sick        ^  «h«nselve. 

maculate,  waspisi  "aT Ih^^iSST"^^^  i»- 
"anv  other  moneyei!  man  S  JSlrf^^'  continued, 
would  have  had  thrcourtesv  S^S.?  with  puiwjlves 

or  at  least-  mir  Ko!!u  "'"""X  confer  with  us  and  aive  u«. 
secIririeT  He  an  opportunity  for  takui^ve^le^ 
fake.  He  had  To  ic«s'o^  for^o^^'  "^1  ^"^"^ 
Ac  market,  considSngX  sLS  0^?^*^  these  stocks  on 
very  we  I  what  the  efferf  Vll  •  °L?*°«*-  ^^ows 
whole  dty  isTvolvtd  h^?  v  f***!'  ^"  l>e.  The 

He  teul  li^  dm  hf'h     "  '  ''"'^  Mr.  Stack! 

fcim,or,mK;,*fh5L  m^^^^^^  undemanding  wiih 

resenting  him  that  ?  "  i  "  P'*">  ^avc  been  rep- 
be  thn,^  on  thTmaX;  ''TV?"?  «^k  was  to 
single  share  of  it  Ttol;  foSn  J  'fn  ""i!"'"^  *°  » 
safes.  I  can  sympatSii  In  .  *"5^*»«e  »  any  of  their 
Stackpole.  HU^^^TJ  *«^"t  Poor 
there  5;  no  eSuse^one  in  th^w 'b'!!^'*'^  I'y^' 
trickery  on  Cowpem^od's  part  7J  "^"f*'  ""^ 

along-the  maJTs  nothing  C  a  w/ecU^ 

to  find  some  methrul  «f  rJj-    Y  •  "  ®  certainly  ought 

h  s  K.ft-rolf  colUrr«d  .Z^d^T; ""r"'''''  ''*''  '"'j""=<' 


P«atLVi!p.7l''S^^^  he  owe.  .h. 

time  to  tim.       £.?!?  "J"  Schryhart,  promptly.  "Fma 


PANIC 

Mr.  Merrill,  a  diplomatic  mouse  of  a  man— gray,  Parisian^ 
dandified — ^was  twisting  in  his  large  chair,  surveying  the 
others  with  shrewd  though  somewhat  propitiatory  eyes.  In 
spite  of  his  old  grudge  against  Cowperwood  because  of 
the  latter's  refusal  to  favor  him  in  the  matter  of  running 
street-car  lines  past  his  store,  he  had  always  been  interestea 
in  the  man  as  a  spectacle.  He  really  disliked  the  thought 
of  plotting  to  injure  Cowperwood.  Just  the  same,  he  felt 
jt  jncumbent  to  play  his  part  in  such  a  council  as  this. 

My  financial  agent,  Mr.  Hill,  loaned  him  several  hundred 
oiouiand  not  long  ago,"  he  volunteered,  a  little  doubtfully. 

I  presume  he  has  many  other  outstamlmg  obl^tkxis. 

Mr.  Hand  stirred  irritably. 

••Well,  he's  owing  the  Third  National  and  the  Lake  City 
as  much  if  not  more,"  he  commented  "I  know  where 
there  are  five  hundred  thousand  dollars  of  his  loans  that 
haven  t  been  mentioned  here.  Colonel  Ballinger  has  two 
hundred  thousand.   He  must  owe  Anthony  Ewer  all  of 

^"^^^  ^«  Drovers  and  Traders  all  of  one  hundred 

and  fifty  thousand." 

On  the  basis  of  these  suggestions  Ameel  made  a  mental 
calculation,  and  found  that  Cowperwood  was  indebted  ap- 
parently to  the  tune  of  about  three  million  doDan  on  call, 
it  not  more. 

"I  haven't  all  the  facts,"  he  said,  at  last,  slowly  and 
distinctly.  "If  we  could  talk  with  some  of  the  prendent* 
of  our  banks  to-night,  we  should  probably  find  that  there 
are  other  items  of  which  we  do  not  know.  I  do  not  like 
to  be  severe  on  any  one,  but  our  own  situation  is  serious. 
Unless  somethutt  is  done  to-night  Hull  &  Stackpole  will 
certainly  fail  m  the  morning.  We  are,  of  course,  obligated 
to  the  vanous  banks  for  our  loans,  and  we  are  in  honor 
bound  to  do  aU  we  can  for  them.  The  good  name  of 
Uiicago  and  its  rank  as  a  banking  center  is  to  a  certain 

u'Tf'^i  ^  *^«»<*y  Mr.  Stackpole 
and  Mr.  Hull,  I  personaUy  have  gone  as  far  as  I  carTin 
this  matter.  I  suppose  it  is  the  same  with  each  of  you. 
Ihe  only  other  resources  we  have  under  the  dreumfraBce* 
are  the  banks, and  they.as  I  understand  it.are  pretty  uch 
invol^  with  st^k  on  hypothecadoii.    I  know  at  leaat 

that  thtt  tt  true  of  the  Uke  Qty  and  the  DoSgte  Tniit.'* 

419 


THE  TITAN 

"It's  true  of  nearly  all  of  them,"  said  Hand.  Both 
Schrvhart  and  Merrill  nodded  assenc 

"We  are  not  obligated  to  Mr.  Cowperwood  for  anything 
so  far  as  I  know,"  continued  Mr.  Amecl,  after  a  slight  but 
somewhat  portentous  pause.  "A»  Mr.  Sdhr^ait  has  sug- 
gested here  to-day,  he  seems  to  have  a  tendency  to  inter- 
fere and  disturb  on  every  occasion.  Apparently  he  stands 
obligated  to  the  various  banks  in  the  sums  we  have  men- 
tioned. Why  shouldn't  his  loans  be  called?  It  would 
help  strengthen  the  local  banks,  and  possibly  permit  them 
to  aid  in  meedng  this  situation  for  us.  Wie  he  m^it  he 
ma  position  to  reuliate,  I  doubt  it." 

Mr.  Armd  had  no  personal  opposition  to  O)wperwood— 
none,  at  least,  of  a  deep-seated  character.  At  the  same 
tune  Hand,  Merrill,  and  Schryhart  were  his  friends.  In 
him,  they  fdt,  centered  the  financial  leadership  of  the 
city.  The  rise  of  Cowperwood,  his  Napoleonic  airs,  threat- 
ened this.  As  Mr.  Ameei  talked  he  never  raised  his  eyes 
nom  the  desk  n^eie  ht  was  sitring.  He  merely  drummed 
solemnly  on  the  surface  with  his  fingers.  The  others  con- 
templated him  a  little  tensely,  catdiing  quite  dearly  the 
drift  of  his  proposal. 

"t"^?!  f'^.^^l'^"'  idea— excellent!"  exclaimed  Schryhart. 

1  will  join  m  any  programme  that  looks  to  the  elimina- 
tion of  this  man.  The  present  situation  may  be  just  what 
is  needed  to  accomplish  this.  Anyhow,  it  may  help  to  solve 
our  difficulty.  If  so,  it  will  certainly  be  a  case  of  good 
coming  out  of  evil." 

u"  J***  "°  reason  why  these  loans  should  not  be  called," 
Hand  commented.  "I'm  willing  to  meet  the  situation  on 
wat  basis. 

"And  I  have  no  particular  objection,"  said  Merrill.  "I 
think,  however,  it  would  be  only  fair  to  give  as  much  norice 
".Po^ible  of  any  decision  we  may  reach,"  he  added. 

Wiy  not  send  for  the  various  bankers  now,"  suggested 
Schnrhart,  and  find  out  exactly  where  he  stands,  and  how 
much  It  will  take  to  carry  Hull  &  Stackpole?  Then  we 
can  inform  Mr.  Cowperwood  of  what  we  propose  to  do." 

To  this  proposition  Mr.  Hand  nodded  an  assent,  at  the 
same  time  consulting  a  Iz.ge,  heavily  engraved  gold  watch 
of  the  most  ponderous  an<*  inertist":  desi^   ^'l  think*" 

430 


PANIC 

he  said,  "that  we  have  found  the  solution  to  this  situation 
at  last.  I  suggest  that  we  get  Candish  and  Kramer,  of  »e 
stock- exchange"  (he  was  referring  to  the  prMident  and 
secretary, respectively, of  that  organization),  and  Simmons, 
of  the  Douglas  Trust.  We  should  soon  be  able  to  tell 
what  we  can  do."  , 

The  library  of  Mr.  Ameel's  home  was  fixed  upon  as  the 
most  suitable  rendezvous.  Telephones  were  forthwith  set 
ringing  and  messengers  and  telegrams  despatched  m  owct 
that  the  subsidiary  financial  luminaries  and  the  watch- 
dogs of  the  various  local  treasuries  mi^ht  come  wd^  as  it 
were,  put  their  seal  on  this  secret  decuio^  whidi  it  was 
obviously  presumed  no  minor  <^ktal  Of  maoaaxy  IPWUo 
have  the  temerity  to  gainsay. 


CHAPTER  XLIX 

MOUMT  OLYMPUS 


DY  eight  o  dock,  at  which  hour  the  conference  was  nc, 
iZw  in  Pr""P'*  fiti»nci^  personages  of  aicago  were 
Merrill  i'"™"^-  Scfiryhart, 

w^^S  '  >  f^""^^}  '"^'■^  Pereonally  interested!  mat 
J  to"Lf*  "5^  »?.seven-thirty  there  was  a  pattering 
of  horses  hoofs  and  a  jingle  of  harness,  as  splendid  open 
^^IZ^^"^  ^^u"^  "R  »n  front  of  various  exclusive  man- 
f^h  ,^1"*  •^?"H.P"''1.^".^'  ?r  *»i«cto'  at  least,  issued 
to  .h.  k  *  ""r^fr'i^^  '^'I  quadnimvirate  to  journey 
SjJ.ll'Sri^^  Such  interesting  figures  » 

fWnl^*''*^^?'"'  president  of  the  old  dhicSgo  g" 
SS£f„     i"**         »  director  of  the  Prairie  fSSonal; 

&m„?n.^''T  P'^/'*^*^"^  °f  West  Chicago  Gas 
Company,  and  now  a  director  of  the  Chicago  &tral 

dfflt  ni^*i^**'^  National;  Norrie  Simms,  presi- 

dent  of  the  Douglas  Trust  Company;   Walter  Rysam 
Cotton,  once  an  active  wholesale  coWbiokerbut^  a 
director  pnnapally  of  various  institutions,  were 'all  en  ^Tte 
f^.Tl^A^'^^^  ®^ ?°'.^'?"»  superior,  thoughtful  gentle- 

maLJ^  thi  •  ""^^"^^^  'K^^^^'  appcfranceiid  of 

impression.    For,  be  it  known,  of  all 

S^dS^  nf"  •?  vainglorious  over  the  minor 

achieved  thL     u"-''""       '^""'^  »»«t  newly 

manner  and  2  'I  .^"/^''"'tial  apparently  to  fulfil  in 
S  hefi.;  A'  '^T*  r"  '^'^  P""^'P'«  of  "presence" 
5  wealth  of  conservator  of  society  a^d  leader 

27n„«L  ^-r^  one  of  those  named  and  manvmore-to 

dt5?^.^.^llni^'^'  fo«h  »»  the  hot. 

riSf^r  !"  y      *"*^,'J«re  soon  at  the  door  of  die  lame  and 
comfortable  home  of  Mr.  Timothy  Araeel. 


MOUNT  OLYMPUS 

That  important  personage  was  not  as  yet  present  to  re- 
ceive his  quests,  and  neither  were  Messrs.  Schryhart,  Hand, 
nor  Mernll.  It  would  not  be  fitting  for  such  eminent  po- 
tentates to  receive  their  undeiiings  in  person  cm  such  an 
occasion.  At  the  hour  appmnted  these  four  were  still  tn 
their  respective  offices,  perfecting  separately  the  details 
of  the  plan  upon  which  they  had  agreed  and  which,  with 
a  tium  of  informality  and  w  momentary  inspiradtm,  dwy 
would  later  present.  For  the  time  beine  their  guests  had  to 
make  the  best  of  their  absence.  Drinks  and  liquors  were 
served,  but  these  were  of  small  comfort.  A  nek  prcH 
vided  for  straw  hats  was  for  some  reason  not  used,  every 
one  preferring  to  retain  his  own  head-gear.  Against  the 
background  of  wood  panndii^  and  the  chairs  covered 
with  summer  linen  the  company  presented  a  galleryesque 
variety  and  interest.  Messrs.  Hull  and  Stackpole,the  corpses 
or  yictinis  over  whidi  diis  serious  gsdwiuig  were  aboot  to 
sit  in  state,  were  not  actually  present  within  the  room, 
though  they  were  within  call  in  another  part  of  the  house, 
where,  if  necessary,  they  could  be  reached  and  their  advitt 
or  explanations  heard.  This  presumably  brilliant  as- 
semblage of  the  financial  weight  and  intelligence  of  the  city 
appeared  as  solemn  as  owls  under  the  pressure  of  a  rumored 
impending  financial  crisis.  Before  Ameers  appearance  there 
was  a  peniect  buzz  of  minor  fimmcial  gossip,  sudi  as: 

"You  don't  say?" 

"Is  it  as  serious  as  that?" 

"I  knew  things  were  pretty  shaky,  but  I  was  by  no 
means  certain  how  shaky. 

"Fortunately,  we  are  not  carrying  much  of  that  stock.** 
(This  from  one  of  the  few  really  happy  bankers.) 

"This  is  a  rather  serious  occauon,  isn't  it?" 

"You  don't  tell  me!" 

"Dear,  dear!" 

Never  a  word  in  criticism  from  any  source  of  either 
Hand  or  Schryhart  or  Ameel  or  Merrill,  though  the  fact 
that  they  were  back  of  the  pool  was  well  known.  Somehow 
they  were  looked  upon  as  benefactors  who  were  calling  this 
conference  with  a  view  of  saving  others  from  disaster 
rather  than  for  the  purpose  of  assisting  themselves.  Such 
phrases  as,  "Oh,  Mr.  Hand!    Marvelous  man!  Mar- 

423 


THE  TITAN 

velous!"  or,  "Mr.  Schiyhart— very  able— very  able  indeed  I** 
w.  You  may  depoid  on  it  these  men  are  not  going  to 
allow  anything  serious  to  overtake  the  affairs  of  the  city  at 
this  time,  were  heard  on  every  hand.  The  fact  that 
immense  quantities  of  cash  or  paper  were  involyed  in  be- 
half  of  one  or  other  of  these  four  was  secretly  admitted  by 
one  banker  to  another.  No  rumor  that  Cowperwood  or 
his  fnends  had  been  pn^ting  or  were  in  any  way  iuTirfved 
had  come  to  any  one  present — not  as  yet. 

At  eight-thirty  exactly  Mr.  Ameel  first  ambled  in  quite  in- 
formally, Hand,  Schiyhart,  and  Merrill  appearing  separately 
very  shortly  after.   Rubbing  their  hands  and  mopping  their 
faces  with  their  handkerchiefs,  they  looked  about  thenu 
making  an  attempt  to  appear  as  nonchalant  and  cheerM 
as  possible  under  such  trying  circumstances.   There  were 
many  old  acquamtances  and  friends  to  greet,  inquiries 
to  be  made  as  to  the  health  of  wives  and  children.  Mr. 
Ameel,  clad  in  yellowish  linen,  with  a  white  silk  shirt  of 
lavender  stnpe,  and  carrying  a  palm-leaf  fan,  seemed  quite 
refreshed;  his  fine  expanse  of  neck  and  bosom  looked  moH 
paternal,  and  even  Abrahamesque.   His  round,  glistening 
pate  exuded  beads  of  moisture.   Mr.  Schryhart,  on  the 
contraiy,  for  all  the  heat,  appeared  quite  hard  and  solid, 
as  though  he  might  be  carved  out  of  some  dark  wood. 
Mr.  Hand,  much  of  Mr.  Ameel's  type,  but  more  soUd  and 
apparently  more  vieorous,  had  donned  for  the  occasion  a 
blue  serge  coat  with  trousers  of  an  ahnost  gaudy,  bright 
stnpe.  His  ruddv,  archaic  face  was  at  once  encouraging  and 
senous,  as  though  he  were  saying,  "My  dear  children,  this 
\/t^^^  *n^ng»  but  we  will  do  the  best  we  can."  Mr. 
Merrill  was  as  cool  and  ornate  and  laay  as  it  was  possible 
for  a  great  merchant  to  be.   To  one  person  and  another  he 
octended  a  cool,  soft  hand,  nodding  and  smiling  half  the 
time  in  silence.    To  Mr.  Ameel  as  the  foremost  citizen 
and  the  one  of  largest  wealth  fell  the  duty  (by  all  agreed 
as  most  appropriate)  of  assuming  the  chair— which  in  this 
ca^  was  an  especially  large  one  at  the  head  of  the  table. 

1  here  was  a  slight  stir  as  he  finally,  at  the  suggestion  of 
Schiyhart,  went  forward  and  sat  down.  The  odier  great 
men  found  seats. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  began  Mr.  Ameel,  diyly  (be  had  a 

4H 


MOUNT  OLYMPUS 


low,  husky  voice),  "I'll  be  as  brief  as  I  can.  This  is  a 
very  unusual  occasion  which  brings  us  together.  I  suppoM 
you  all  know  how  it  is  with  Mr.  Hull  and  Mr.  Scackoole. 
American  Match  is  likely  to  come  down^with  a  crash  in 
the  morning  if  somethiiitt  very  radical  isn't  done  to-ni^t. 
It  is  at  the  suggestk>n  «  a  Dumber  of  moi  and  banks  oat 
this  meering  is  called." 

Mr.  Ameel  had  an  informal,  tetfr^-tete  way  of  speaking 
as  if  he  were  sitting  on  a  chatM^ongiie  with  one  other 
person. 

"The  failure,"  he  went  on,  firmly,  "if  it  comes,  as  I  hope 
it  won't,  will  make  a  lot  of  trouUe  few  a  number  of  banks 
and  private  individuals  which  we  would  like  to  avoid,  I 
am  sure.  The  principal  creditors  of  American  Match  are 
our  local  banks  and  iome  private  individuals  who  have 
loaned  money  on  the  stock.  I  have  a  list  of  them  Ywn, 
along  with  the  amounts  for  which  they  are  responsible. 
It  is  in  the  neighborhood  of  ten  millions  of  dollars." 

Mr.  Ameel,  with  the  unconscious  arrogance  of  wealth 
and  power,  did  not  trouble  to  explain  how  he  got  the  listf 
neither  did  he  show  the  slightest  perturbation.  He  merely 
fished  down  in  one  pocket  m  a  heavy  way  andproduced  it, 
tpreadine  it  out  mi  ihit  table  before  hini.  The  comjpany 
wondered  whose  names  and  what  amounts  were  wmUt 
and  whether  it  was  his  intention  to  read  it. 

"Now,"  resumed  Mr.  Ameel,  seriously,  "I  want  to  say 
here  that  Mr.  Stackpole,  Mr.  Merrill,  Mr.  Hand,  and  my- 
Mlf  have  been  to  a  certain  extent  investors  in  this  stock, 
and  up  to  this  aftmio<m  we  felt  it  to  be  our  duty,  not  so 
much  to  ourselves  as  to  the  various  banks  which  have  ac- 
cepted this  stock  as  collateral  and  to  the  city  at  latge,  to 
sustain  it  as  much  as  possible.  We  bdieved  in  Mr.  Hull 
and  Mr.  Stackpole.  We  might  have  gone  still  further  if 
there  had  been  any  hope  that  a  number  of  others  could 
carry  the  stock  without  seriously  injuring  themselves;  but 
in  view  of  recent  developments  we  know  that  this  can't 
be  dmi^  For  some  time  Mr.  Hull  and  Mr.  Stackpole  and 
the  various  bank  officers  have  had  reason  to  think  that 
some  one  has  been  cutting  the  ground  from  under  them, 
and  now  d^y  know  it.  It  is  beoiuse  of  ^bit,  and  becaiMe 
00I7  onceited  aoioa  OB  the  part  of  iMmks  uad  indi^ridydb 

4*5 


THE  TITAN 

can  save  the  financial  credit  of  the  dty  at  this  time,  that 
this  meetinsj  is  called.  Stocks  are jEoing  to  continue  to  be 
thrown  on  the  market.  It  is  poMbk  diat  Hull  k  Stack- 
pole  may  have  to  liquidate  in  some  way.  One  thing  is 
certain:  unless  a  large  sum  of  money  is  gathered  to  meet 
the  claim  against  them  in  the  monung,  they  will  fail.  The 
trouble  u  due  indirectly,  of  course,  to  this  silver  agitation; 
rat  it  tt  due  a  great  deal  more,  we  believe,  to  a  piece  of  local 

I?  L         "^^^^^      j"^*         ^°  '*8ht,  and  which  has 
reall)r  been  the  cause  of  putting  the  financial  community  in 
,  P,  stands  to-night.   I  might  as  well 

*^  Rif'n'y  as  to  this  matter.  It  is  the  work  of  one  man 
— Mr^Cowmerwood.  American  Match  might  have  pulled 
through  and  the  city  been  have  spared  the  danger  which 
now  confronts  it  if  Mr.  Hull  and  Mr.  Stackpoie  M  not 
made  the  mistake  of  going  to  this  man." 

Mr.  Aiaeei  pauwd,  and  Mr.  Norrie  Simms,  more  excit- 
able than  most  by  temperament,  chose  to  exclaim,  bitterly: 
1  he  wreckerr    A  stir  of  interest  passed  over  die  others 
accompaaied  1^  murmurs  of  disappro^. 

"The  moment  he  got  the  stock  in  his  hands  as  collateral," 
contmued  Mr.  Ameel,  solemnly,  "and  in  the  face  of  an 
agreement  not  to  throw  a  share  on  the  market,  he  hat  been 
unloading  steadily.  That  is  what  has  been  happening 
yesterday  and  to-day.  Over  fifteen  thousand  shares  of  this 
stock,  which  cannot  very  well  be  traced  to  outn<fe  sources, 
have  bem  thrown  on  the  market,  and  we  have  every  rea- 
•on  to  bdieve  that  all  of  it  comes  from  the  same  place. 
The  result  is  that  American  Match,  and  Mr.  Hull  imd  Mr. 
Stackpoie,  are  on  the  verge  of  collapse." 

The  scoundrel  r  repeated  Mr.  Norrie  Simms,  bitterly, 
almost  rising  to  his  feet.  The  Douglas  Truit  Cbmpaay 
was  heavily  mterested  in  American  Match. 

What  an  outrage!"  commented  Mr.  Lawrence,  of  the 
Frame  National,  which  stood  to  lose  at  least  three  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars  in  shrinkage  of  values  on  hypothe- 
cared  stock  al(Mie.  To  this  bank  that  Cbwperwood  owed 
*t  Jeast  three  hundred  thousand  dollars  on  call. 

Depend  on  it  to  find  his  devil's  hoof  in  it  somewhere," 
observed  Jordan  Jules,  who  had  never  been  able  to  make 
any  saosfacto^  progicst  in  his  figitt  m  Omimatooi  h 

416 


MOUNT  OLYMPUS 

connection  with  the  city  council  and  the  devdopment  of 
the  Qiicago  General  G>mpany.  The  Chicago  Central,  of 
which  he  was  now  a  director,  was  one  of  the  !  anks  from 
which  Cowperwood  had  judiciously  borrowed. 

"It's  a  pity  he  should  he  allowed  to  eo  on  bedeviling  the 
town  in  diis  fadiion,"  observed  Mr.  Sunderland  Sledd  to 
his  neighbor,  Mr.  Duane  Kingsland,  who  wat  a  ^netn 
in  a  bank  contrdled  by  Mr.  Hand. 

The  latter,  at  well  at  Schryhart,  obterved  with  tacit- 
faction  the  effect  of  Mr.  Ataeel'a  w«»dt  oa  the  con- 
pany. 

Mr.  Ameel  now  again  fished  in  hit  pocket  laborioutly, 

and  drew  forth  a  second  slip  of  paper  which  he  spread  out 
before  him.  "This  is  a  time  when  frankness  must  prevail," 
he  went  on,  solemnly,  "if  anything  is  to  be  done,  and  I  am 
in  hopes  that  we  can  do  something.  I  have  here  a  memo- 
randum of  some  of  the  loans  which  the  local  banks  have 
made  to  Mr.  Cowperwood  and  which  are  tdll  standing  on 
their  books.  I  want  to  know  if  there  are  any  further  loans 
of  which  any  of  you  happen  to  know  and  which  you  are 
willing  to  mention  at  this  time.** 
He  looked  solemnly  around. 

Immediately  several  loans  were  mentioned  by  Mr.  Cotton 
rad  Mr.  Osgood  which  had  not  been  heard  of  previously. 
The  company  was  now  very  well  aware,  in  a  graeral  way, 
of  what  was  coming. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  continued  Mr.  Ameel,  "I  have, 

f)reyious  to  this  meeting,  consulted  with  a  number  of  our 
eading  men.  They  agree  with  me  that,  since  so  many 
banks  are  in  need  of  funds  to  carry  this  situation,  and  since 
there  is  no  particular  obligation  on  anybody's  part  to  look 
after  the  inter  of  Mr.  Cowperwood,  it  might  be  just  at 
well  if  these  loans,  of  his,  which  are  outstanding,  were  called 
and  the  money  used  to  aid  the  banks  and  the  men  who 
have  been  behind  Mr.  Hull  and  Mr.  Stackpole.  I  have 
no  personal  feeling  against  Mr.  Cowperwood— that  is,  he 
has  never  done  me  any  direct  injury — but  naturally  I  can- 
not aporove  of  the  course  ht  has  seen  fit  to  take  in 
case.  Now,  if  there  isn't  mmiey  available  from  some  source 
to  enable  you  gentlemen  to  turn  around,  there  will  be  a 
number  of  other  fiulttret.   Runs  may  be  ttarted  on  a  half- 

427 


THE  TITAN 


dosmi  banit.  Time  is  the  emtaat  of  a  ■^'wtitmi  tti 
ai^  we  haven't  any  time." 

Mr.  Ameel  paused  and  looked  around.  A  slight  hua 
of  omveraarion  sprang  u|h  mOy  bioar  and  il«aHMain 
cnticiam  of  Cow^erwood. 

"It  wouM  bt  ci  ly  just  if  he  could  be  made  to  pay  for 
this,  «)mm^nted  Mr.  BJackman  to  Mr.  Sledd.    "Hi  h  .s 
been  allowed  to  play  fast  and  loose  long  enough.   It  is 
fon^e  one  n/kJ  a  halt  on  him." 

•  L  »*  thm^  it  would  be  doM  to. 

nieht,"  Mr  Slead  returmd. 

"iVkJSri'u  was  a^ain  rising  to  hit  feet; 

1  tnmit,  he  was  ..aying.  "if  there  is  no  objection  on  any 
one  s  part,  Mr.  Ameel,  as  diairman,  might  call  for  a  foz^ 
mal  expression  of  opmion  from  the  different  gentlemen 
present  which  will  be  record  as  the  ftntf  of  this 
nieetii%. 

At  this  point  Mr.  Kingsland,  a  tall,  whiskered  gentleman, 
aroM  to  inquire  exactly  how  it  came  that  Cowperwood  had 
f^t  *"«^^«ocks,  and  whether  those  present  were  abto- 
l«tely  sure  that  the  stock  has  been  coming  from  him  or 
Ifwn  his  friends.  "I  would  not  like  to  diink  we  weie 
doing  anv  man  an  injustice,"  he  concluded. 

In  reoly  to  this  Mr.  Schryhart  called  in  Mr.  Stackrole 
to  corroborate  him.  Some  of  the  stocks  had  been  ponttvelv 
identified.  Stackpole  related  die  full  stofv,  wttSSkmSS- 
how  seemed  to  electrify  th  coH^any,  m  amaie  w^  dii 
fcchng  against  C3owperwood. 

i  l    l"  *"™?^".?^^*f  ™"  ^«  permitted  to  do  *hii» 

hke  this  and  SOU  hold  up  their  heads  in  the  business  IS? 
said  one,  Mr.  Vasto,  president  of  the  Third  Natio  1,  to 
his  neighbor. 

•;i  should  think  there  would  be  i.o  difficulty  in  se  uring 
united  action  m  a  case  of  diis  kind,"  said  Mr.  Law-nce! 
president  of  the  Praine  National,  who  was  m  miKf> 
holden  to  Hand  tor  past  and  ptt$gm  fawrs. 

Here  IS  a  case,  |Hie  in  SchtvhaKL  who  was  m*rel"  t  sit- 
ing for  an  opportunity  to  explair  "ur*  "in  wfcch  an 
unexpected  political  situation  dtvdop^  an  unexoected 
crisis,  and  this  man  uses  it  for  hn  peemal  aggran  i^-r  nt 
and  to  the  dtaMaent  o(  every  o*^  mmm  wm  -^ 

4*8 


MOUWT  OLYMPUS 

of  ik»  citT  is  notUng  to  him.  The  itaoility  of  the  very 
luaim  bor  of^  frma  is  notfarag.  He  a  pariah,  and  if 
thit  ef|H>rti!'  icv  to  ibow  him  what  we  thiaic  w  hkn  and  im 
medwds  it  not  used  we  wiU  bt  ioiqg  kit  tlm  oar 

to  the  city  and  to  one  Mother.'* 

"Giaitferrer,  ^  id  Mr.  Aiiieel,  fiady,  after  Cowper- 
wood't  differen  h^s  had  beoi  carefidty  tabitlatied,  "dmi't 
y  }U  ^mk  it  wmttd  be  « -je  to  aa^  for  Mr.  Cowocrwood 

id  stn  >  him  4y  the  decision  we  have  reaaied  and 
tae  reasum  lor  a  pjens^^  all  of  lu  would  wgc^  dltt  Iw 
Amki  be  notttni 

'  think  He  sr  b^  4ified  '  said  Mr.  N  .ill,  who 
sa    betiind  .rh       the    (» club  that  was  beiqg 

bran^ishe  ' 

B  h  h  md  tuy  art  lot  ;d  at  each  other  and 
Arnt  ii  whu        j-    tely  waited  fo.  some  one  else  to  make 

a     liiitM       Waal  bo  one  ventured,  Han  ^  fHio  WM 

^fie^^l  t  ^ould  piovo  a  lippiiv  btew  «o  C^i^puaMUil, 
rewafliei  iously: 

"He  li  as  wdl  be  tdd— we  can  rrac^*  Imb«  life 
wratarat  notice,  in  my  judgment.    He  as  well 

wdnvt    i  that  this  is  the  united  action         e  leading 
'  •     rces  of  tbe  city." 

J,"  4doiMr.  Schryhart.  "Itist,  inder- 
•to  '  tteik  ^at  Ae  moneyed  men  of  thu  lunity 
th         him  a  i  his  crooked  ways." 

-'*™**L^  awroval  ran  aroui^  the  room. 
V'-ry  wwH,**  said  Mr.  Ameel.   "Anson,  you  know  him 
betr    thar  some  of  the  rest  of  us.    Perhaps  you  had  better 
see  u  you  can  get  him  on  the  telephone  and  ask  bbn  to  caU. 
Tdi  him  that  we  are  here  in  executive  session." 

"I  think  he  mieht  take  more  aefioudy  if  y&m  tpekm 
"   bia^  Timothy,   replied  Merrill. 

baiag  always  a  man  of  action,  arose  and  left  liie 
I  eking  a  telephone  which  was  located  in  a  small 

or  office  den  on  the  same  floor,  where  he  could 
^tmt^jt  fear  of  being  overheard. 

Sitting  in  his  library  on  this  particular  evening,  and 
studymg  the  details  of  half  a  dozen  art-catalogues  wfaicb 
had  accumaiated  during  the  week,  Qmpermd  mm  da- 

429 


THE  TITAN 

cjdedly  consdout  of  the  probable  coUapse  of  Amercian 
Match  on  the  morrow.   Through  his  brokers  and  agents  he 
was  well  aware  that  a  conference  was  on  at  this  hour  at  the 
house  of  Ameel.   More  than  once  during  the  day  he  had 
seen  bankers  and  brokers  who  were  anxious  about  possible 
shnnkage  in  connection  with  various  hypothecated  se- 
curities, and  to-night  hu  valet  had  called  him  to  the  'phone 
half  a  dozen  times  to  talk  with  Addison,  with  Kaffrath. 
with  a  broker  by  the  name  of  Prosser  who  had  succeeded 
i-aughlm  in  active  control  of  his  private  speculations,  and 
also,  be  It  said,  with  several  of  the  banks  whose  presidents 
were  at  this  particular  conference.    If  Cowperwood  was 
n»D5d,  niMCrusted,  or  feared  by  the  overlords  of  these 
institutions,  such  was  by  no  means  the  case  with  the  undei& 
lings,  some  of  whom,  through  being  merely  dvU,  were  hope- 
ful of  s^unng  matenal  benefits  from  h&n  at  some  futire 
ttBM.   With  a  feeling  of  amused  satisfaction  he  was  medi- 
ptmg  u(>on  how  heavily  and  neatly  he  had  countered  on 
l3fJl"!k '"  u  ^T'"  speculating  as  to  how  ro 

StiL  1?^  i^^  congrat- 
^«1ffl,il!51  ?"  corresponding  gains.  When  alf  his 
K^i«5  i  '^?t"''*        ^^"^  the  neigh- 

worked  Messrs.  Hull  and  Stackpole  any  great  injustice. 
They  were  at  their  wit's  end.  ff  he  ha^d  not  sd2ff  tS 
opportunity  to  undercut  them  Schiyhart  or  Ameel  mM 
nave  done  so,  anyhow. 

wJ5I"!5fcir^  thoughts  of  a  forthcoming  financial  triumph 
were  others  of  Berenice  Fleming.  There  are  such  things 
JLte" V'  R  bram  even  in  the  heads  of  colossi.  He 
thought  of  Berenice  eariy  and  lare;  he  even  dreamed  of 
in  ♦K.V  I  "^^^'^  "  hiniself  at  times  for  thus  being  taken 
in  the  toils  of  a  mere  giri-the  strands  of  her  ruddy  luttr- 

th.?:^  ft*  '^u  '^^^^"g.  of  where  she  Was  going  in 
the  East,  of  how  happy  he  would  be  if  they  were  l^to^ 
gether,  happily  mated.  '  '  ^ 

tlii'Jlf«Ji;r^'*l^''''^"*°'^"**'>'A*«  course  of 

dSlSZ^  J  "  Narragansett  Berenice,  among  other 
diversions,  had  assumed  a  ceruin  interest  in  one  lieutenant 

430 


MOUNT  OLYMPUS 

Lawi^ce  Braxmar,  U.S.N.»  whom  she  found  loitering  there, 
and  who  was  then  connected  with  the  naval  station  at 
Portsmouth,  New  Hampshire.  Cowperwood,  coming  East 
at  this  time  for  a  few  davs'  stay  in  order  to  catch  another 
glimpse  of  his  ideal,  had  been  keenly  disturbed  by  the  sight 
of  Braxmar  and  by  what  his  presence  might  signify.  Up 
to  this  time  he  had  not  given  much  thought  to  younger 
men  in  connection  with  her.  Engnmsed  b  her  personality, 
he  could  think  of  nothing  as  beine  able  to  stand  long  be- 
tween him  and  the  fulfilment  of  his  dreams.  Berenice 
must  be  his.  That  radiant  Sfnrit,  enwrapt  in  so  fair  an  out- 
iwrd  seeming,  must  come  to  see  and  rejoice  in  him.  Yet 
she  was  so  young  and  airy  in  her  mood  that  he  sometimes 
Mrandered.  How  was  he  to  draw  near?  What  say  exactly? 
What  do?  Berenice  was  in  no  way  hypnotized  by  either 
his  wealth  or  fame.  She  was  accustomed  (she  little  knew 
to  what  extent  by  his  courtesy)  to  a  world  more  resplen- 
dent m  Its  social  S!  curity  than  his  own.  Surveying  Brax- 
mar keenly  upon  their  first  meeting,  Cowperwood  had  liked 
his  face  and  intelligence,  had  judged  him  to  be  able,  but  had 
wondered  msuntly  how  he  could  get  rid  of  him.  Viewing 
Berenice  and  the  Lieutenant  as  they  strolled  off  together 
along  a  sunimery  seaside  veranda,  he  had  been  for  once 
lonely,  and  had  sighed.  These  uncertain  phases  of  affec- 
tion could  become  very  trying  at  rimes.  He  wished  he  were 
young  again,  single. 

To-night,  therefore,  this  thought  was  haunting  him  like  a 
gloomy  undertone,  when  at  half  past  eleven  the  telephone 
rang  mice  mors,  and  he  heard  a  low,  even  voice  winch 
.i^'^P*'^°°«^^  This  is  Mr.  Ameel." 

Yes. 

"A  number  of  the  principal  financial  men  of  the  dty 
are  gathered  here  at  my  house  this  evening.  The  question 
of  ways  and  means  of  preventing  a  panic  to-monow  is  up 
for  discussion.  As  you  probably  know,  Hull  &  Stackpole 
are  m  trouble.  Unless  something  is  done  for  them  to- 
night  they  will  certainly  fail  to-morrow  for  twenty  wMHy^ 
dollars.  It  isn  t  so  much  thHr  failure  that  we  are  con- 
sidenng  as  it  is  the  effect  on  stocks  in  general,  and  on  the 
banks.  As  I  understand  it,  a  number  of  your  loans  are 
uvolved.  The  gentlemen  here  have  tugiettsd  that  I  oitt 

431 


THE  TITAN 

you  up  and  ask  vou  to  come  here,  if  you  will,  to  help  ut 
decide  what  ought  to  be  done.   Something  verjr  clnttk 
will  have  to  be  decided  on  before  morning. 
^  Dttrii^  din  speech  Cowperwood's  brain  had  been  re- 
dprocatmg  like  a  well-oiled  machine. 

"My  loans?"  he  inquired,  suavely.  "What  have  they 
to  do  with  the  situation?  I  don't  owe  Hull  &  Stackpole 
anything." 

'Very  true.  But  a  number  of  the  banks  are  canyiiw 
securities  for  you.  The  idea  is  that  a  number  of  these  wiH 
have  to  be  called — the  majority  of  them — unless  some  other 
^ay  canbe  devised  to-night.  We  thought  you  might  pos- 
«Wy  win  to  oome  and  talk  it  over,  and  that  you  might  be 
able  to  suffgest  some  other  way  out." 

•*!  see,'  replied  Cowperwood,  caustically.  "The  idea 
is  to  sacnfioe  me  m  order  to  save  Hull  k  Stackpole.  U 
that  It?" 

His  eyes,  ^uite  as  though  Ameel  were  before  hini» 
emitted  malicious  sparks. 

"Well,  not  precisely  that,"  replied  Ameel,  conservative- 
ly; "but  something  will  have  to  be  done.  I>on't  you 
think  you  had  better  come  over?" 

.  "Very  good.  I'll  come,"  was  the  cheerful  reply.  "It 
isa  t  anything  that  can  be  discussed  over  the  'phone,  any- 
how." 

lie  hung  up  the  receiver  and  called  for  his  runabout. 
Oa  the  way  over  he  dianked  the  prevision  which  had 
caused  him,  in  anticipation  of  some  such  attack  as  thu^ 
to  set  aside  in  the  safety  vaults  of  the  Chicago  Trust  Com- 

Eany  several  imHioRS  m  low-interest-bearing  government 
onds.  Now,  if  worst  came  to  worst,  these  could  be  drawn 
on  and  hypothecated.  These  men  should  see  at  laat  how 
powerful  Re  was  and  how  secure. 

As  he  entered  the  home  of  Ameel  he  was  a  picturesque 
and  truly  representative  figure  of  his  day.  In  a  light  sum- 
mer suit  of  cream  and  gray  twill,  with  a  straw  hat  <mia- 
mented  by  a  blue-and-white  band,  and  wearing  yellow 
quarter-shoes  of  the  softest  leather,  he  appeared  a  very 
model  of  trig,  well-groomed  self-sufficiency.  As  he  was 
ushered  into  the  loom  be  gnad  about  kmi  in  a  bn»% 
lemune  way. 

4SS 


MOUNT  OLYMPUS 


"A  fine  night  for  a  conference,  eentlemen,"  he  said, 
walking  toward  a  chair  indicated  by  Mr.  Ameel.  "I  must 
say  I  never  saw  so  many  straw  hats  at  a  funeral  before. 
I  understand  that  my  obsequies  are  contemplated.  What 
can  I  dof* 

He  beamed  in  a  genial,  sufficient  way,  which  in  any  one 
else  would  have  brought  a  smile  to  the  faces  of  the  com- 
pany. In  him  it  was  an  implication  of  basic  power  idiidi 
secretly  enraged  and  envenomed  nearly  all  those  present. 
They  merely  stirred  in  a  nervous  and  wholly  anugonistic 
way.  A  number  of  diose  who  knew  him  petKMully  nodded 
—Merrill,  Lawrence,  ^nnu;  iMit  dm*  wu  no  ftisadly 
light  in  their  eyes. 

"Well,  gentlemen?"  he  in(iuired,  after  a  moment  or  two 
of  ominous  silence,  observing  Hand's  averted  face  and 
Schryhart's  eyes,  which  were  lifted  ceilingward. 

"Mr.  Cowperwood,"  began  Mr.  Ainec^  ^uiedy,  in  no 
way  disturbed  by  Cowperwood's  jaunty  air,  "as  I  told 
you  over  the  'phone,  this  meeting  is  called  to  avert,  if  pos- 
sible, what  is  likely  to  be  a  very  serious  panic  in  the  morn- 
ing. Hull  &  Stackpole  are  on  the  verge  of  failure.  The 
outstanding  loans  are  considerable — in  the  neighborhood 
of  seven  or  ?ight  million  here  in  Chicago.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  are  asseu  in  the  diape  of  Americam  Match 
stodu  and  other  properties  sufficient  to  cany  diem  for  a 
while  longer  if  the  banks  can  only  continue  their  loans. 
As  you  know,  we  are  all  facing  a  falling  market,  and  the 
banks  are  short  <^  ready  money.  Sometlung  has  to  be  done. 
We  have  canvassed  the  situation  here  to-night  as  thorough- 
ly as  possible,  and  the  general  conclusion  is  that  your  loans 
are  among  the  most  available  assets  which  can  be  reached 
quickly.  Mr.  Schryhart,  Mr.  Merrill,  Mr.  Hand,  and  my- 
self have  done  all  we  can  thus  far  to  avert  a  calamity,  but 
we  find  diat  sonw  one  with  whom  Hull  &  Stacl^Mle  Mire 
^  en  hypothecating  stocks  has  been  feeding  them  out  in 

ler  to  break  the  market.  We  shall  know  how  to  avoid 
>iiat  in  the  future"  (and  he  kwked  hard  at  Cowperwood), 
"but  the  thing  at  present  is  immediate  cash,  and  your  loans 
are  the  largest  ana  the  most  available.  Do  you  think  you 
can  find  the  means  to  pay  them  back  in  the  morning  r' 

Amed  blinked  his  keen,  blue  eyes  solMuily,  wmSi  the 

433 


i- 


THE  TITAN 
rest,  like  a  pack  of  genial  but  hungry  wolves  sat  an^  .... 

,  •  Why  not?"  inquired  Hand,  grimly  and  heavflv  ♦..«.. 
ing  squarely  about  and  facing  K.rl  j 

"lU-anL »»  —  I-  J                ^"^  scowling. 
.    Because,   replied  Cown#ra»wwri  —  •  . 


•ayimt  a  word  ari.  mJ~^*  '^"^ 

"j—s  *  w  ^  ?"*  catspaws  and  rubber  M-am«.  A.. 

vou  and  Mr.  Schryhart  and  Mr.  Arneel  yj^TJS 
S       V??  ™c  *°.'^n?'^  '^hat  to  do,  ITI  tdl  W- 

M;gS£  rraKS 

|ut         bank  SjJ-fc'SL^^.        ^t^ffi  jli^f 

toX  dwTutd„r™  k'  *'?""''  I'     '"<■  '"■''•"y  ""Iked 
jaunoiy  down  the  wide  interior  staircaie  nm-nlJl 
footman  to  open  the  door,  a  mumSli '^SiSlii; 
aroK  in  the  room  he  had  ji.t  Irf"  *~ta&eooo 


MOUNT  OLYMPUS 


"The  wrecker!"  re-exclaimed  Norrie  Simm^  wagafyf 
astounded  at  this  demonstration  of  defiance. 

"The  scoundrel  r  declared  Mr.  Blackman.  "Where 
does  he  get  the  wealth  to  talk  like  that?" 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Ameel*  stung  to  the  quick  by 
this  amazing  effrontery,  and  yet  made  cautious  by  tKe 
blazing  wrath  of  Cowperwoo<C  "it  is  useless  to  debate 


to  loans  which  canoe  controlled  in  hn  favwy  and  of  which 
I  for  one  know  nothing.  I  do  not  see  what  can  be  done 
until  we  do  know.  Perhaps  some  of  you  can  tell  us  what 
thev  are." 

But  no  one  could,  and  after  due  calculation  advice  was 
borrowed  of  caution.  The  loans  of  Frank  Algernon  Cow- 
perwood  were  not  called. 


this 


Mr.  Cowperwood  evidently  refers 


CHAPTER  L 

A  IfBW  TOIX  MANMON 


T!i£  «f         Amencan  Match  the  next  moming  was 

niiS  1-^°'*  r?"".  ^^^^  ^^'^"^'J  the  city  anJ  t£ 
natwo  and  lingered  m  the  minds  of  men  for  yeare  At 
the  last  moment  it  was  decided  that  in  Heu  of  cilKn^*C«w 

ttewock- exchange  closed,  and  all  trading  ended  iS 
^"^±TH  «  quotabnedSr^iM! 

Sie    TirZ*'"?'^™'^^?'*^'  nothfng  to  be 

done.   The  respective  bank  presidents  talked  solemnly 

td  Am^^rjTf  ^r^'.  Hand,  Schiyhart.  MemK 

tIJeir  iw^i^^V^P^""'**'  P^*^'^'"  to  pioteci 

ineir  mterews,  and  Cowperwood,  triumphant,  was  round- 
ly denounced  by  the  smalC 

didrmLr"  tS'^'i""^  oppiobriou.  term  that  camrSto 
h^J^?:  ''"^V        f^«<J  sauarely  the  fact  that 

r  ^!l  I'^'^^y       donmiant  money  power  in 
^^Jjo?   Could  he  thus  flaunt  their  helplessnesTand  hi. 

Si;;S::hi?p3;'"'  •^^^^^  thei?underii,S 

"I  must  give  in!"  Hosmer  Hand  had  declared  to  Ameel 

d^naiL    «w  consultatMO  after  the  ochen  had 

departed.     We  seem  to  be  beaten  to-mght,  but  I.  for  M 


A  NEW  YORK  MANSION 

am  not  through  yet.  He  has  won  to-night,  but  he  won't 
win  always.  This  it  a  ^ht  to  a  finish  Iwtweeii  me  and 
him.  Tm  rest  of  you  can  stay  in  ot  drop  out,  just  at  ymi 

wish." 

**Hear,  hear!"  exclaimed  Schryhart,  laying  a  fervt  ^ 
sympathetic  hand  on  his  shoulder.   "Every  dollar 
I  have  is  at  your  service,  Hosmer.   This  fellow  can't  wi.-^ 
eventually.   I'm  with  you  to  the  end." 

Ameel,  walking  with  Merrill  and  the  others  to  the  door, 
was  silent  and  dour.  He  had  been  cavalierly  afFrrated  by 
a  man  who,  but  a  few  short  years  before,  he  would  have 
considered  a  mere  underiins.  Here  was  Cowperwood 
bearding  the  lion  in  his  den,  dictating  terms  to  die  minci- 

f>al  financial  figures  of  the  city,  stanaing  up  trig  and  reso- 
ute,  smiling  in  their  faces  and  telling  them  in  so  many 
words  to  go  to  the  devil.  Mr.  Ameel  glowered  under  low- 
ering brows,  but  what  could  he  do?  We  must  see,"  he 
said  to  the  others,  "what  time  will  bring.  Just  now  there 
is  nodiing  mudi  to  do.  This  crisis  has  been  too  sudden. 
You  say  you  are  not  through  with  him,  Hosmer,  and  neither 
am  I.  But  we  must  wait.  We  shall  have  to  break  him 
pirfitkally  in  this  city,  and  I  am  confident  that  in  the  end 
we  can  do  it."  The  others  were  grateful  for  his  courage 
even  though  to-morrow  he  and  they  must  part  with  millions 
to  protect  themselves  and  the  banks.  For  the  first  time 
Merrill  concluded  that  he  would  have  to  fight  Cowperwood 
openly  from  now  on,  though  even  yet  he  admired  his  cour- 
age. "  But  he  is  too  defiant,  too  cavalier!  A  very  lion  of 
a  man."  he  said  to  himself.  "A  man  with  the  heart  of  a 
Numidian  Uon." 
It  wat  tnie. 

From  this  day  on  for  a  little  while,  and  because  there 
was  no  immediate  political  contest  in  sight,  there  was  com- 
parative peace  in  Chicago,  although  it  more  resembled  an 
armed  camp  operating  under  the  terms  of  some  aereed 
neutrality  than  it  did  anything  else.  Schryhart,  Hand, 
Arneel,  and  Merrill  were  quietly  watchful.  Cowperwood's 
chief  concern  wat  lest  hit  enemies  n^^t  succeed  in  their 
project  of  worsdng  him  politically  in  one  or  all  three  of  the 
succeeding  elections  which  were  due  to  occur  every  two  years 

437 


THE  TITAN 


brre'„'lS°^'A'  "^^^  fc«  f«nch«es  would 
nave  to  De  renewed.  As  m  the  past  thev  had  maH#>  ;* 
njcewary  for  him  to  work  against%hem  tLughTnW 
and  perjury,  so  in  ensuing  strunrles  thev  mieht  Un^rf^ 

nH>«  honew.  would  be  more  loy^toX  4my 

r^Jn^bl^'"*  *^*  ^^'"r"  °f  franchises.  Yet  S 
a  renewal  period  of  at  least  twenty  and  preferablv  fS?J 

2.-  ■«-«*ection,  his  new  mansion,  his  now- 

JthemW^K  '""5^**       «  morganVticor 

iSSS.^  -ome  one  wfio  would  be  worthy  to  share 

nf  IkA''"""""  most  potent  tendencv 

Mt  d«/m  fifty-seven,  rich  beyond  the  will- 

iWtl.^  ET?      national  way,  who  was  nevertheless  fed- 

or  even  these  four  or  five  magn  ficently  moneved  mm  tuS 

d"«Sj"^l7**°'  Plodding^thought^TlXTmty 
sS  h^'JA  C^YP^rwood  himself  fr^SuTndJ 
Kw  ^'s  he  'w"'''?^T  l*?^  "-fontendeTpiofit^ 
st^ntirhJ^;  P."*»       »»™o«  «»- 

c^frnfrvT^w^T'*^  "?!™y  opposition  and  threatened 
men  weJe  i^'  1  ^'"if  '°  immoralitv?  c3S 

fol-deT^yS^'fi,  '"^^^rr-  ^^l^''^  «''«ious  dWma  and 
loi  ae-rol  theorv  imposed  from  the  top,  was  Kenwallv  so. 
Was  It  not  rather  due  to  his  inability  to  aJ^^^J^ 
dominating  personallv-without  sSSing^^u^T^S 

The  J:  '"J**'  Sometimes  he  thoLia 

The  humdrum  conventional  world  could  not  Kk  £ 

a  spai*^"Hr""T^*£".~^^^^^  ^"'^  TcallTspad: 
er^to  man?^  ?hl"h  '^^^T^^        ?  taunt  and  a  nLk- 

Wmi  enouth.  he  was  not  niffideatly  oily  and  make-beUeve. 


A  NEW  YORK  MANSION 


Well,  come  what  might,  he  did  not  need  to  be  or  mean  to 
be  MH  and  there  the  game  must  lie;  but  he  had  not  by  any 
means  attained  the  height  of  his  ambition.  He  was  not 
yet  looked  upon  as  a  money  prince.  He  could  not  rank  as 
vet  with  the  magnates  of  the  East — the  serried  Sequoias  dP 
Wall  Street.  Unril  he  could  stand  with  these  men,  until 
he  could  have  a  magnificent  mansion,  acknowledged  as 
such  by  all,  undl  he  could  have  a  worid*£unom  galtoy, 
Berenice  millions — what  did  it  avail? 

The  maracter  of  Cowperwood's  New  York  house,  which 
proved  one  of  the  central  achievements  of  his  later  years, 
was  one  of  those  flowerings-out  of  disoosition  which  event- 
uate in  the  case  of  men  quite  as  in  that  ofplants.  After 
th?  passing  of  the  years  neither  a  modified  Gothic  (such  as 
his  Philadelphia  house  had  been),  nor  a  conventionalized 
Norman-French,  after  the  style  of  his  Michigan  Avenue 
home,  seemed  suitable  to  him.  Only  the  Italian  palaces 
of  medieval  or  Renaissance  origin  which  he  had  seen 
abroad  now  appealed  to  him  as  aam|^  <^what  a  statdy 
residence  should  be.  He  was  really  seeku^  something 
^ich  should  not  only  reflect  his  private  tastes  as  to  a  home, 
but  should  have  the  more  enduring  Qualities  <^  a  palace 
or  even  a  museum,  which  might  stand  as  a  monument  to 
his  menrary.  After  much  searching  Cowperwood  had  found 
an  architect  in  New  York  who  suited  him  entirely — one 
Raymond  P3me,  rake,  raconteur,  man-about-town — who  was 
still  first  and  foremost  an  arrist,  with  an  eye  for  the  ex- 
ceptional and  the  perfect.  These  two  5pent  days  and  days 
together  meditating  on  the  details  of  uiis  home  museum. 
An  immense  gallery  was  to  occupy  the  west  wing  of  the 
house  and  be  devoted  to  pictures;  a  second  gallery  should 
occupy  the  south  wing  and  be  given  over  to  sculpture  and 
large  whorls  of  art;  and  tliese  two  wings  were  to  swing  as  an 
L  around  the  house  proper,  the  latter  standing  in  the  angle 
between  them.  The  whole  structure  was  to  be  of  a  rich 
brownstone,  heavily  carved.  For  its  interior  decoratimi 
the  richest  woods,  silks,  tapestries,  glass,  and  marbles 
were  canvassed.  The  main  rooms  were  to  surround  a 
great  central  court  with  a  cdonnade  of  pink -veined 
ajabatter,  and  in  the  center  there  would  be  an  electrically 
ughted  fiMaitain  of  alabaster  and  silver.  Occupying  the 

439 


THE  TITAN 


make  an  exceIlenTckI„k!  •   his  death  thit  room  woul 

«<i:Tf^rVrr¥  4&his  posses 

wa«.  he  had  the  effron'^e^^  t„  , i'^*"*' 

create  a  happie^Sl  iff.    W  ^  *"*  ^^"''i 
pretend  a  maritaTwmSSn«t  ^« 
m  order  to  make  tWs  tM^^«  which  had  no  basi*  tolth 

Pomhh.   Subs^qVenVhe  S  ^^'^  « 

make  an  arran«menf  L^^?  o»"  he  mig^ 

h»wy  oumde  Sr^i,!^^^^^  ''"^'^ 

saS;"!!m1"theTuS5iJJ^^^^^  At  the 

uaUy  awakened  K^r  J*  *P'">''«J  mans  on  event- 

art     '^^u^ed'  hi  c^^^^  of  the  vwri 

sonahty  and  caused  Lr?«.  t.  ^'^."food's  iron  per- 

Before  this  sh^rad  uLd  o?^  ' 

interloper  coming  E^t  anH  .  P      ^^'"^  Western 

mothers  goad  ^ftufe  to  ^Ll^^'^h  f**^»«F»^  h« 

Now,  howivcr,  all  that  Mrf  pf^    u  j  t  *>aar  courtesy. 

his  personaliry  and  achievlm^n!  "  ^l^  ^er  if 

into  a  gkttenWhain  of  f/.JI'''^^ 

were  fond  of  reLtbe  would X  .H"*^' 

•hip.   Obvious^  th^^Cb^il;^  ^''''^^  °^  '?^«  workman- 

entgjjodety.  "^tt.';^^^ 

to  Berenice,  "that  he  coulinV  k/*  "* 

his  wife  before "rbeeM  all^;  ""T  ^'^o^*^*  '"rom 

never  be  re«?ved    fifw    u i  they  wiU 


A  NEW  YORK  MANSION 

not  the  type,"  was  her  comiMDt.  "She  has  neither  the 
air  nor  the  understanding." 

"If  he  is  so  unhappy  with  her,"  observed  Berenice, 
thoughtfully,  "why  aoesn't  he  leave  her?  She  can  be 
happy  without  him.  It  is  so  silly — this  cat-and-dog  exist- 
ence. Still  I  suppose  she  values  the  [Mittion  he  givei  her/' 
she  added,  "since  she  isn't  so  interesting  herself. ' 

"I  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Carter,  "that  he  married  her 
twenty  years  ago,  when  he  was  a  very  different  man  from 
what  ne  is  to-day.  She  is  not  exactly  coarse,  but  not  clever 
enoug^.  She  cannot  do  what  he  would  like  to  tee  d<me. 
I  hate  to  see  mismatines  of  this  kind,  and  yet  they  are  so 
common.  I  do  hope.  Bevy,  that  when  you  marry  it  will 
be  some  one  widi  whom  you  can  get  along,  though  I  do 
believe  I  would  rather  see  you  unhappy  than  poor." 

This  was  delivered  as  an  early  breakfast  peroration  in 
Central  Paric  South,  with  die  morning  sun  glittering  on  one 
of  the  nearest  park  lakes.  Bevy,  in  spring-green  and  old- 
gold,  was  studying  the  social  notes  in  one  of  the  morning 
paoers. 

'  I  think  I  should  prefer  to  be  unhappy  with  wealth  than 
to  be  without  it,"  she  said,  idly,  without  looking  up. 

Her  mother  surveyed  her  admiriHgly,  conscious  of  her 
imperious  mood.  What  was  to  become  of  her?  Would 
she  marry  well?  Would  she  marry  in  time?  Thus  far 
no  breadi  of  the  wretched  days  in  Louisville  had  affected 
Berenice.  Most  of  those  with  whom  Mrs.  Carter  had 
found  herself  compelled  to  deal  would  be  kind  enough  to 
keep  her  secret.  But  there  were  others.  How  near  she 
had  been  to  drifting  <mi  the  rocks  when  Cowperwood  had 
appeared! 

'After  all,"  observed  Berenice,  thoughtfully,  "Mr.  Cow- 
perwood isn't  a  mere  money-grabber,  is  he?  So  many  of 
these  Western  moneyed  men  are  so  dull." 

"My  dear,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Carter,  who  by  now  had  be- 
come a  confirmed  satellite  of  her  secret  protector,  "you 
don't  understand  him  at  all.  He  is  a  very  astonishing 
man,  I  tell  you.  The  world  is  certain  to  hear  a  lot  more  oi 
Frank  Cowperwood  before  he  dies.  You  can  say  what  you 
please,  but  some  one  has  to  make  the  money  in  the  nnt 
place.   It's  little  enough  that  good  breeding  does  fic»'  y<Mi 

441 


THE  TITAN 

in  porerty.    I  know,  because  I've  seen  plenty  of  our  friends 

comedown. 

In  the  new  house,  on  a  scaffold  one  day,  a  teow  sculp- 
tor and  his  assistants  were  at  work  on  a  Greek  fticse  which 
represented  dancing  nvmphs  linked  together  by  looped 
wreaths.  Berenice  and  her  mother  happened  to  be  pan- 
ing.  They  stopped  to  look,  and  Cowperwood  joined  them. 
He  waved  his  hand  at  the  figures  of  the  frieze,  and  said  to 
Berenice,  with  his  old,  gay  air,  "If  they  had  copied  vou 
the^  would  have  done  better." 

•How  charming  of  youl"  she  replied,  with  her  cool, 
■tran^,  blue  eyes  fixed  on  him.  "They  are  beaudfuL" 
in  spite  of  her  earlier  prejudices  she  knew  now  that  he  and 
uiehad  one  god  m  common— Art;  and  that  hia  naodini 
nx^  Ml  wmgs  beautiful  as  on  a  shrine.  \ 

He  merely  looked  at  her. 

"This  house  can  be  little  more  than  a  museum  to  me," 
ne  remarked,  simply,  when  her  mother  was  out  of  hearing; 

but  I  shall  build  It  as  perfectly  aa  I  can.  Perfaapa  othm 
ma^  enjoy  it  if  I  do  not." 

She  looked  at  Um  musingly,  underatandingly,  and  he 
smUed.  She  realized,  of  course,  that  he  waa  tiyiiic  to  c»- 
vey  to  her  that  he  was  lonely. 


OIAFTER  U 

THE  RByiTAL  OF  HAITIB  STARR 

ENGROSSED  in  the  pleasure*  and 
which  Cowperwood's  money  was  provUBag,  Berenke 
ha  '  until  recently  given  very  little  thought  l^ner  future. 
Gtwpeiwood  had  been  most  liberal.  "She  is  younjg/'  he 
once  said  to  Mrs.  Carter,  with  an  air  of  disinterestira  liber- 
ality, when  they  were  talking  about  Berenice  and  her 
future.  "She  is  an  exquisite.  Let  her  have  her  day.  If 
^  maniea  die  can  pay  you  hmek,  or  me.  But  |Nre 
her  all  she  needs  now."  And  he  signed  checks  with  tfefr 
airof  a  gardener  who  k  ^"rowii^;  a  ^raodrous  orchid. 

The  trodi  was  that  Xv.  Cattor  \ad  becone  ao  fend  of 
Berenice  as  an  object  of  .  t" ,  prospective  grande  dame, 
that  she  would  have  sc- '  i  •  ul  to  sec  her  well  placed; 
and  as  the  moMy  topro-  \  ►  *>  dresses,  setting,  ecuipujire 
had  to  come  from  8omewi;ere,  she  had  placed  her  •■rAjrf:  tn 
subjection  to  Cowperwood  and  pretended  not  l  sc  ;  tiie 
compromisine  position  in  iMA  Ae  wat  pladag  «itt  dutt 
was  near  ana  dear  to  her. 

**0h,  3rou*re  so  good,"  she  mr  ft  than  once  said  to  him, 
a  mist  of  gratitude  commingli  '  yith  joy  in  uer  eyf  ai.  "I 
would  never  have  believed  it  oj  any  (me.   But  Bevy—" 

"An  esthete  is  an  esdiete,**  Cowperwood  replied.  ''They 
are  rare  enough.  I  like  to  see  a  spirit  as  &m  as  bm  move 
untroubled.    She  will  make  her  way." 

•  ^"'"^  Lieutenant  Braxnnr  in  the  foreground  of  Bere- 
nice's affairs,  Mrs.  Carter  was  foolish  .'-.•ugh  to  harp  on 
the  matter  in  a  friendly,  ingratiating  wuy.  Braxmar  was 
leaily  nteresting  after  lus  tashion.  He  was  young,  tall, 
muscular,  and  handsome,  a  graceful  dancer;  but,  better 
3ret,  he  represented  in  his  moods  lineage,  social  positioo. 
aaaibcror^tiiait»irfikiiaiiptedK«^  He 

443 


THE  TITAN 
™  intelligent,  serious,  with  a  kind  of  social  crace  whirl 

Yo«  dance  delightfully,"  she  said.   "Is  this  a  oart  «i 
yofr  hfe  on  the  ocean  wave?"  «  Part  ol 

smile  %'tijaL'*fl*^''  '^Pl''^^'  '"^'^  »  heavenly 
Wr  ^       «ccompanied  by  balls,  don't  yol 

belie?awj^id"  ^''^'^  «P"^  "I*'-^ 

•"noJ  for  «.*•"  I""  '^orse  ones." 

Ilii  mind  I  dmiKJ*-lwiE  '  u  machinery  on 

••Vi!?  S?"?;  ""^  com.nen.ed  gaily: 

Oh,  not  that  exactly,"  replied  Mrs  Carfir 
bracinfi  herself  for  a  word  wh^^K  -k-  r  i"  S-^*^***^'  swwtljr, 
her-  "bur  thiU  c'  »ne  felt  incumbent  apon 

STi^v  ani  K  ^  position.  He  comes  of  such  a  Sod 
fanuly.  and  he  must  be  heir  to  a  considerable  f^taSki 

AAA 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  HATTIE  STARR 

his  own  ri^t.  Oh,  Bevjr,  I  don't  want  to  huny  or  spoil 
your  life  m  any  way,  but  do  keep  in  mind  the  future. 
With  your  tastes  and  instincts  money  is  so  essential,  and 
unless  you  marry  it  I  don't  know  where  you  are  to  get  it. 
Your  father  was  so  dioii|^tkti»  and  Roife't  wu  even 
worse/* 
She  sighed. 

Berenice,  for  almost  the  first  time  in  her  life,  took  solemn 
heed  of  this  thought.  She  pondered  whether  she  could  en- 
dure Bnomar  as  a  life  partner,  follow  him  around  the  world, 
perhaps  retransferring  her  abode  to  the  South;  but  she 
could  not  make  up  her  mind.  This  suggestion  on  the  part 
of  her  mother  rather  poisoned  the  cup  for  her.  To  tell  the 
truth,  in  this  hour  of  doubt  her  thoughts  turned  vaguely^ 
to  Cowperwood  as  one  who  represented  in  his  avid  way 
more  of  the  things  she  truly  desired.  She  remembered  his 
wealth,  his  plaint  that  his  new  house  could  b«  only  a 
musetnm,  die  manner  in  v^idi  he  approached  Her  widi 
looks  and  voiceless  suggestions.  But  he  was  old  and  mar- 
ried— out  of  the  question,  therefore — and  Braxmar  waa 
young  and  dnrming.  To  dunk  iier  modier  slioald  hxrt 
been  so  tactless  as  to  suggest  the  necessity  for  consideration 
m  his  easel  It  almost  spoiled  him  for  her.  And  was  their 
financial  state,  th«i,  as  uncertain  at  her  mother  indicated  f 

In  this  crisis  some  of  her  previous  social  experiences 
became  significant.  For  instance,'only  a  few  weeks  previ- 
ous to  her  meeting  with  Braxmar  she  had  been  visitms  at 
the  country  estate  of  the  Corscaden  Batjers,  at  Redding 
Hills,  Long  Island,  and  had  been  sitting  with  her  hostess 
in  the  morning  room  of  Hillcrest,  which  command  a 
lovely  thoush  distant  view  of  Long  Island  Sound. 

Mrs.  Fredericka  Batjer  was  a  chestnut  blonde,  fair,  cool, 
quiescent— a  type  out  of  Dutch  art.  Qad  in  a  morning 
TOwn  of  gray  and  silver,  her  hair  piled  in  a  Psyche  knot, 
Hie  had  m  n«r  lap  on  this  occasion  a  Java  basket  filled 
with  some  attempt  at  Norwegian  needlework. 

"Bevy,"  she  said,  "you  remember  Kilmer  Duelma, 
don  t  your  Wasn't  he  at  the  Haggertys*  last  summer 
when  you  were  there?" 

Berenice,  who  was  seated  at  a  small  Chippendale  writing- 
desk  pcnaiag  letteia,  giancsd  up,  her  mMvisioniiv  fi»  tilt 

445 


THE  TITAN 

moment  the  youth  in  question.   Kilmer  Duelma— talL 
stocky,  swaggermg,  hi.  clothes  die  loose,  nonchalant  ptHtc- 
I?  J^ft  ambhng,  studied,  lackadiisical. 

aimless,  his  color  high,  his  cheeks  full,  his  eyes  a  littk 
vacuous,  his  mind  acquiescing  in  a  sort  of  genial,  incon- 
•equential  way  to  eveiy  query  and  thought  that  was  put  to 
him.  1  he  younger  of  the  two  sons  of  Auguste  Duclaa. 
banker,  promoter,  muldmillionaire,  he  wouH  come  intoa 
f^^S^^^^^^r^y  at  hetmm  «x  and  eight  million.. 

Mrs.  Batjer  studied  Berenice  curiously  for  a  moiMnt. 
then  returned  to  her  needlework.  "I've  a.ked  Ufli  Amtm 
**^«  V   f.  ™^-«n<l."  she  suggested. 

Yes?   queried  Berenice,  sweetly.   "Are  th«e  otheiiT 

d«^»  '•mwrfy.  "Kitawr 

ooMn  t  mterest  you,  I  presume." 

BCTemce  smiled  enigmatically. 
You  remember  Clarissa  Faulkner,  don't  you,  Bevyr 
pursued  Mr.,  ^ner.   "She  married  Romulus  Garrison." 

..JJerfectly.  Where  is  she  now?" 
They  have  lea«5d  the  Chateau  Brieul  at  Ars  for  the 
wmter.  Romulus  i.  a  fool,  but  Clarissa  is  so  clever.  You 
know  she  wntes  that  she  is  holding  a  veritable  court  there 
this  season.  Half  the  smart  set  of  Paris  and  London  are 
?K^fi^  "  "  ^  charming  for  her  to  be  able  to  do 
those  things  now.  Poor  dear  At  one  ciiM  I  wat  mt* 
troubled  over  her." 

•a^Ki^rV^i'j"*  any  outward  sign  Berenice  did  not  fail  to 
gather  the  full  import  of  the  analogy.  It  was  all  true.  One 

m        ^'^^  She  suffered 

a  disturbin|  sense  of  duty.  Clraer  Duelma  arrived  at  noon 
*nday  with  six  types  of  bags,  a  special  valet,  and  a  pre- 

L**™.      Ho  «<J  hunting  (diseases  lately 
acquin^from  a  huntuig  wt  in  the  Berk.hires).   A  deveriy 
^tn^  compliment  supposed  to  have  emanated  from 
l-Iemmg  and  convened  to  him  with  tact  by  Mn, 
Batjer  brought  him  amblma  into  Berenice's  pnm»  n» 
>  ?^*"^*y  <J"ve  to  Saddle  Rock, 
k!  I   L  ^  "^  delighted  to  see  you  again. 

Hawlhaw!  It'.  be«  an  ^  rince  I'W  «en  the  Ha|«e?ty.. 

446 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  HATTIE  STARR 

We  miued  you  after  you  left.  Haw  1  haw  I  I  did,  you  know. 
Snce  I  taw  yea  I  have  taken  up  polo — three  V>nie»  with 
me  all  the  time  now — haw!  haw! — a  regular  staole  neariy.** 

Berenice  strove  valiantly  to  retain  a  serene  interest. 
Ptoty  was  in  her  mind,  me  Chltera  Brieul,  the  winter 
court  of  Clarissa  Garrison,  some  first  premonitions  of  the 
flight  of  time.  Yet  the  drive  was  a  bore,  conversation  a 
burden,  ikt  struggle  to  respond  dtanic,  impowibie.  When 
Monday  came  she  fled,  leaving  three  days  between  that  and 
a  week-end  at  Morristown.  Mrs.  Batjer — ^who  read  straws 
most  capaUjr — i^{hed.  Her  own  Corscaden  was  not  much 
beyond  nis  money,  but  life  must  be  Uved  and  the  ambitioua 
must  inherit  wealth  or  gather  it  wisely.  Some  impomUe 
scheming  silly  would  soon  collect  Dudai«,«n#!HlWl 
oonsideml  Berenice  a  little  difficult. 

Bncmce  could  not  help  piecing  together  iht  mmotr  of 
this  incident  with  her  mother's  recent  appeal  in  behalf  of 
Lieutenant  Braxmar.  A  Ereat,  dojring,  disturbing,  dis- 
integrating factor  in  her  was  revealedi  by  the  dawninc 
discovery  that  she  and  her  mother  were  without  much 
money,  diat  aside  from  her  lineage  she  was  in  a  certain 
sense  an  interioper  in  society.  There  were  never  rumors  of 
great  wealth  in  connection  with  her — no  flattering  whispers 
or  public  notices  regarding  her  station  as  an  heiress.  All 
the  raiUK  minor  manikins  of  the  social  world  were  on  the 
out  vive  tor  some  cotton-headed  doll  of  a  girl  with  an  endless 
bank-account.  By  nature  sybaritic,  an  intense  lover  of 
art  fabrics,  of  stately  functions,  of  power  and  success  in 
every  form,  she  had  been  dreaming  au  this  while  of  a  great 
soul-freedom  and  art-freedom  under  some  such  circum- 
stances as  the  greatest  individual  wealth  of  the  day,  and 
only  that,  could  provide.  ^  Simultaneously  she  had  vaguely 
cherished  the  idea  that  if  die  ever  found  some  one  wKo 
was  truly  fond  of  her,  and  whom  she  could  love  cr  even 
admire  mtensely — some  one  who  needed  her  in  a  deep, 
sincere  way— die  would  Hve  heradf  ftcely  and  gladly. 
Yet  who  could  it  be?  She  had  been  charmed  by  Braxmar, 
but  her  keen,  analytic  intdligence  required  some  one 
harder,  more  vivid,  more  ruthless,  some  one  who  would 
appeal  to  her  as  an  immense  force.  Yet  fhe  must  be 
conservative,  she  must  play  what  cards  she  had  to  win. 

447 


THE  TITAN 

During  hit  flttimmr  vidt  at  Narragansctt  Cowperwood 
had  not  been  long  disturbed  by  the  presence  of  ftiunar. 
tor,  having  received  special  orders^the  latter  was  compelled 
to  huny  away  to  Hampton  Roads.    But  the  following 
November,  forsaking  temporarily  his  difficult  affairs  in 
Chica|o  for  New  York  and  the  Carter  apartment  in  Central 
rark  bouth,  Cowperwood  i^am  enconiitered  the  Lieuten- 
ant, who  amyed  one  evenmg  brilUantly  arrayed  in  full 
official  regalia  m  order  to  escort  Berenice  to  a  baU.   A  hieh 
military  cap  surmounting  his  haadme  face,  his  epaulett 
tieaming  m  gold,  the  lapels  of  his  cape  thrown  back  to  re- 
veal a  Jiandsome  red  silken  lining,  his  sword  clanking  by 
his  side,  he  seemed  a  veritable  singing  flame  of  youth. 
U>wpeiwood,  caught  m  the  drift  of  circumstance— age, 
unmntaMeness,  the  flanng  counter-attractions  of  romance 
and  vigor — fairly  writhed  in  pun. 

•  '^fV^**  f?  *>eautiful  in  a  storm  of  diaphanous  ding- 
ing garments.  He  stared  at  them  from  an  adjacent  room, 
where  he  pretended  to  be  reading,  and  sighed.  Ala*,  how 
was  his  cunnmgMd  foresight-even  his— to  overcome  the 
dnft  of  life  lodF?  How  was  he  to  make  himself  appealing 
to  youth  ?  Braxmar  had  the  years,  the  color,  the  bearing, 
geremce  seemed  to-night,  as  she  prepared  to  leave,  to  be 
mHjr  Methag  with  youth,  hope,  gaiety.  He  arose  after 
a  rew  moments  and,  giving  business  as  an  excuse,  hurried 

meditate.  The  logic  of  the  ordmary  man 
25f  *M™  circumstances,  compounded  of  the  age-(4d  no- 
jow  of  chivalry,  self-sacrifice,  duty  to  higher  impulses,  and 
tne  bice,  would  have  been  to  step  aside  in  favor  of  youth,  to 
fwe  convoition  its  day,  and  retire  in  favor  of  morality  ami 
virtue.   Cn^ra,^        .u:....  :  .  moralisSc  or 


virtue.  Cowperwood  saw  things  in  no  such 
altruistic  light.    "I  satisfy  myself,"  had  « 


ever  been  hit 


motto,  and  under  that,  however  much  he  might  sympa- 
thize with  Berenice  in  love  or  with  love  itself,  he  was  not 
content  to  withdrafw  unril  he  was  sure  that  the  end  of  hope 
i  n_?  ^  come.  There  had  been  moments  between 
mm  wn6  Berenice— httle  approximations  toward  inrimacy— 
which  had  led  him  to  believe  that  by  no  means  was  she 
senouslv^powd  to  him.  At  the  same  rime  this  business 
Ot  tae  I  liiiiHint,  so  Mrs.  Carter  confided  to  him  a  little 

448 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  HATTIE  STARR 

later,  was  not  to  be  regarded  lightly.  While  Berenice 
miriit  not  care  to  much,  obviously  Braxmar  did. 

Ever  since  he  has  been  away  he  has  been  storming  her 
with  ktters,"  she  remarked  to  Cowperwood,  one  aftemoMi. 
**l  don't  ^ink  he  it  dw  kind  dnt  can  be  nude  to  take 
no  for  an  answer." 

"A  very  successful  kind,"  commoited  Cowperwood,  dryly. 

Mn«  C«rter  was  uger  tot  sdvwe  m  the  matter.  Bfsxmar 
was  a  ^  man  of  parts.  She  knew  his  connections.  He 
would  inherit  at  least  six  hundred  thousand  dollars  at  his 
Other's  death,  if  not  more.  What  about  her  Louisville 
record?  Supposing  that  should  come  out  later?  Would 
it  not  be  wise  for  Berenice  to  marry,  and  have  the  danger 
over  with  P 

" It  is  a  problem,  isn't  it?"  observed  CowpervRDod,  calmly. 
"Are  vou  sure  she's  in  loveF* 

"On,  I  wouldn't  say  that,  but  such  things  so  easily  turn 
into  love.  I  have  never  believed  that  Berenice  could  be 
swept  ofF  her  feet  by  any  one — she  is  so  thoughtful — but  she 
knows  she  has  her  own  way  to  make  in  the  worid,  and 
Mr.  Braxmar  is  certainly  eligible.  I  know  his  ooiuini,  tht 
Qiflfbrd  Porters,  very  well." 

G)rvperwood  knitted  his  brows.  He  was  sick  to  his  soul 
with  this  worry  over  Berenice.  He  felt  that  he  must  have 
her,  even  at  the  cost  of  inflicting  upon  her  a  serious  social 
injury.  Better  that  she  should  surmount  it  with  him  than 
escape  it  with  another.  It  so  happened,  however,  that  the 
hnal  gnm  neccMty  of  acting  on  any  nMi  ictea  was  spar^ 
him. 

Imadne  a  dining-room  in  one  of  the  principal  hotels  of 
New  York,  the  hour  midnight,  after  an  evening  at  the 
opera,  to  which  Cowperwood,  as  host,  had  invited  Berenice, 
Lieutenant  Braxmar,  and  Mrs.  Carter.  He  was  now  play- 
ing the  role  of  disinterested^  host  and  avuncular  tmmm. 
His  attitude  toward  Berenice,  meditating,  as  he  was,  a 
course  which  should  be  destructive  to  Braxmar,  was  gentle, 
courteous,  serenely  thoughtful.  Like  a  true  Mephistophelea 
he  was  waiting,  surveying  Mrs.  Carter  and  Berenice,  who 
were  seated  m  front  chairs  dad  in  such  exotic  draperies  as 
opera-goers  afFect— Mrs.  Carter  in  pale-lemon  silk  and 
diamonds;  Berenice  in  purple  and  old>rMe^  widb  a  invded 
U  449 


THE  TITAN 

oomb  in  her  hair.  The  Lieutenant  in  his  dazzling  uniform 
rniiled  and  talked  blandly,  complimented  the  singers, 
whispered  pleasant  nothings  to  Berenice,  descanted  at  odd 
moments  to  Cowperwood  on  naval  perMMiagea  who  hap- 
pened to  be  preaent.  Coming  otit  of  die  opera  and  driving 
through  blowy,  windy  streets  to  the  Waldorf,  they  took  the 
table  reserved  for  them,  and  Cowperwood,  after  consultiiw 
with  ff^rd  to  the  dishes  and  orderina;  the  wine,  went  tnudE 
raniniscently  to  the  music,  which  had  been  "La  Boheme." 
The  death  of  Mimi  and  the  grief  of  Rodolph,  as  voiced  by 
the  splendid  melodies  of  Puccini,  interested  him. 

"That  makeshift  studio  world  may  have  no  connection 
with  the  genuine  professional  artist,  but  it's  very  repre- 
sentative of  life,"  he  remarked. 

"I  don't  know,  I'ni  sure,"  said  Braxmar,  seriously. 
"All  I  know  of  Bohemia  is  what  I  have  read  in  books—- 
Trilby,  for  instance,  and—"  He  omild  think  of  no  odier# 
and  stopped.    "I  suppose  it  is  that  way  in  Paris." 

He  looked  at  Berenice  for  confirmation  and  to  win  a  smile. 

Owin^  ro  her  mobile  and  S3rmpadietic  disposition,  she 
had  duriiw  the  opera  been  swept  tmm  period  to  period  by 
surges  of  beauty  too  gay  or  pathetic  for  words,  but  clearly 
comprehended  of  the  spirit.  Once  when  she  had  been  loM 
in  dreamy  contemplation,  her  hands  folded  on  her  knees, 
her  eyes  nxed  on  the  stage,  both  Braxmar  and  Cowperwood 
had  studied  her  parted  lips  and  fine  profile  with  common 
impulses  of  emotion  and  enthusiasm.  Realizing  after  the 
niood  was  gone  that  they  had  been  watching  her,  Bere- 
nice had  continued  the  pose  for  a  moment,  then  had  waked 
as  from  a  dream  with  a  sigh.  This  incident  now  came  back 
to  her  as  well  as  her  feeling  in  regard  to  the  opera  generally. 

"It  is  very  beautiful,"  she  said;  "I  do  not  know  what 
to  say.  People  are  like  that,  of  course.  It  is  so  much 
better  than  just  dull  comfbrt.  Ltfe  is  really  finest  when 
It's  tragic,  anyhow," 

She  looked  at  Cowperwood,  who  was  studying  her;  then 
at  Braxmar,  who  saw  himself  for  the  moment  on  the 
captain's  bridge  of  a  battle-ship  commanding  in  time  of 
action.  To  Cowperwood  came  back  many  of  his  principal 
moments  of  difficultv.  Suiely  M»  Bfe  had  been  mmcicnriy 
dramatic  to  satisfy  ner. 

450 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  HATTIE  STARR 

"I  don't  think  I  care  so  much  for  it,"  interpMed  Mrs. 
Carter.  "One  gets  tired  of  sad  happening  We  Imtc 
enough  drama  in  real  life." 

Cowperwood  and  Braxmar  muled  fainthr*  Berenke 
looked  contemplatively  awav.  The  crush  of  diners,  the 
dink  of  china  and  glass,  the  busdiitt  to  and  fro  of  waiten, 
and  the  itrummmg  of  the  orchestra  diverted  her  auiiiewliat, 
as  did  the  nods  and  smiles  of  some  entering  guests  who 
recognized  Braxmar  and  herself,  but  not  Cowperwood. 

Suddenly  from  a  neighboring  door,  opening  from  the 
men's  cafe  and  grill,  there  appeared  the  semi-intoxicated 
figure  of  an  ostensibly  swagger  society  man,  his  clothing 
somewhat  awry,  an  onera-coat  hanging  looaely  from  one 
shoulder,  a  crush-opera-h  it  dangling  in  one  hand,  his  eyes 
a  little  bloodshot,  his  under  lip  protrudine  sliehtly  and 
defiantly,  and  his  whole  vtaage  proclaiming  that  devil-mav- 
care,  superior,  and  malicious  aspect  which  the  drunken  rake 
does  not  so  much  assume  as  achieve.  He  looked  sullenlj^, 
uncertainly  about;  then,  perceiving  Cowperwood  ind  his 
party,  made  his  way  thither  in  the  half-aetermined,  half- 
mconsequential  fashion  of  one  not  quite  sound  after  his 
cups.  When  he  was  directly  opposite  Cowperwood's  table 
— the^  cynosure  of  a  number  of  eye»— 4ie  suddenly  pauted 
at  if  in  recognirion,  and,  coming  over,  laid  a  eenial  and  yet 
condescending  hand  on  Mrs.  Carter's  bare  shoulder. 

"Why,  hello,  Hatriel"  he  called,  leeringlv  and  jeeringly. 
"  What  are  you  doin^  down  here  in  New  YoA  f  You  haven^t 
given  up  your  busmess  in  Louisville,  have  you,  eh,  old 
sport?  Say,  lemme  tell  you  something.  I  haven't  had 
a  single  decent  giri  since  you  left — not  one.  If  you  open 
a  house  down  here,  let  me  know,  will  you  ?" 

He  bent  over  her  smirkinglv  and  patronizingly  the  while 
he  madr  as  if  to  runmu^  in  hit  white  waistcoat  pocket  for 
a  card.  At  the  same  moment  Cowperwood  and  Braxmar, 
realizing  quite  clearly  the  import  of  his  words,  were  on 
their  feet.  While  Mrs.  Carter  was  pulline  and  struggling 
back  from  the  stranger,  Braxniar's  hand  'he  being  the 
nearest)  vras  on  him,  and  the  head  waiter  and  two  assistants 
had  appeared. 

"What  if  the  trouble  here?  What  hat  he  donef  tliey 
dcnaikdedt 

45t 


THE  TITAN 
•wUwt  — -  ever  nin  in  louiiviUe.  What  Jo  vou  mooU 

know  where  to  comi'?"        k-ij  j  •! 
to  talkto  you  lie?  "   ZTJ^a  '°  ^^^^'J'  '°  ^ 

time  you  want  to.    Tha's  HattJe  sSr,    tl^  l  ™* 
Many  s  the  night  I  spent  in  her  house."  '"'^ 
offic^Hn^e'rvTnec?""*  "^^^     *««f  «  him  h«I  «,t  the 

.it^*"  L'tt^J'TS  I"**       """'her  were 

ung,  ine  latter  quite  flustered,  pale,  dittrait,  horriUf 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  HATTIE  STARR 


taken  aback — by  far  too  much  distressed  for  any  convine- 
ine  measure  of  deception. 

^' Why,  the  very  ideal"  she  was  sa>ring.  "That  dreadful 
man!   How  terrible!  I  never  taw  him  before  in  my  life.** 

Berenice,  disturbed  and  nonplussed,  was  thinking  of  the 
familiar  and  lecherous  leer  with  which  the  stranger  had 
addressed  her  mother— the  horror,  the  shame  of  it.  CouM 
even  a  drunken  man,  if  utterly  mistaken,  be  so  defiant, 
■o  persittent,  so  willing  to  explam?  What  shameful  things 
hao  die  been  hearing? 

"Come,  mother,"  she  said,  gently,  and  with  dignity; 
"never  mind,  it  is  all  right.  We  can  go  home  at  once. 
Yott  will  feel  better  when  you  are  out  of  nere." 

She  called  a  waiter  and  asked  him  to  say  to  the  gentle- 
men that  they  had  gone  to  the  women's  dressing-room. 
She  pushed  an  intervening  diatr  out  of  the  wlQr  ttM  gave 
her  mother  her  arm. 

"To  think  I  should  be  so  insulted,"  Mrs.  Carter  mumbled 
on,  "here  in  a  great  hotel,  in  the  presence  <^  Lieutenant 
Braxmar  and  Mr.  Cowpwwoodl  This  is  too  dreadCuL 
Well,  I  never." 

She  half  whimpered  as  she  walked;  and  B|erenice,  sur- 
veying the  room  with  dignity,  a  lofty  superiority  in  her 
face,  led  solemnly  forth,  a  strange,  lacerating  pam  about 
her  heart.  What  was  at  the  bottom  of  these  shame- 
ful statements?  Why  should  this  drunken  roisterer  have 
selected  her  modier,  of  all  other  women  in  the  dmin^ioom, 
for  the  object  of  these  outrageous  remarks?  Why  should 
her  mother  be  stricken,  so  utterly  collapsed,  if  there  were 
not  some  trudi  in  vdiat  he  had  said?  It  was  very  strange, 
very  sad,  very  grim,  very  horrible.  What  would  that  gos- 
siping, scandal-loving  world  of  which  she  knew  so  much 
say  to  a  frene  like  this?  For  the  first  time  in  her  lifie  the 
import  and  horror  of  social  ostracism  flashed  upon  her. 

The  following  morning,  owing  to  a  visit  paid  to  the 
Jefferson  Market  Police  Court  by  Lwutenant  Braxmar, 
where  he  proposed,  if  satisfaction  were  not  immediately 
guaranteed,  to  empty  cold  lead  into  Mr.  Beales  Chadsey  s 
stomach,  the  followmg  letter  on  Buckingham  stationery 
was  written  and  sent  to  Mrs.  Ira  Georn  Carter— 36  Cen- 
tral Park  South: 


THE  TITAN 


Dbar  Maoam: 

Lsic  cwBiiid  owuif  to  s  dnnikiB  dlvbMidi«  tot  wlucb  f  hsw 

no  satisfactory  or  suitable  explanation  to  make,  I  was  the  un- 
fortunate occasion  of  an  outrage  uoon  your  feelings  and  those  of 
your  daui^ter  and  friends,  for  wnicit  I  wish  most  humbly  to 
apologiie.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  sincerely  I  rwret  whatever  I 
said  or  did,  whidi  I  cannot  now  cl«irly  reodl.  My  mental  atti- 
tude when  drinking  is  both  contentious  and  malicious,  and  while 
in  this  mood  and  sute  I  was  the  author  of  statenmits  whidh  I 
know  to  be  wholly  unfounded.  In  my  drunken  stupor  I  mistook 
you  for  a  certain  notorious  woman  of  LooisWUe—wnv,  I  have  doc 
the  slightest  idea.  For  diis  wfao^  riiamefid  and  outngiOHt 
conduct  I  sincerely  ask  vour  psroon  —  beg  your  fergivtacss. 
I  do  not  know  what  amMMs  I  can  make,  but  anything  vou  may 
wish  to  suggest  I  shall  gladly  do.  In  the  mean  while  T  nope  you 
will  accept  thia  letter  in  the  q)irit  in  which  it  is  written  and  as 
a  dight  att«0pc  at  ntompnm  wbidi  I  know  can  amr 
baoBMa.  Vatyanoenly*  i 

Bbaus  QuuMtr.  ' 

At  t]ie  fame  time  lieutenant  Braxmar  waa  fully  aware 
b^re  this  letter  waa  written  or  sent  that  die  dianet 
implied  against  Mrs.  Carter  were  only  too  well  founded. 
Bodes  Chadsey  had  said  drunk  what  twenty  men  in  all 
sobriety  and  even  the  polke  at  LouttviDe  wotM  CMrobMite. 
Chadsey  had  insisted  on  makug  this  dear  to  BfaxaMT  b^ 
fore  vmttag  the  letter. 


CHAPTER  UI 


mwxam  m  aeeas 

BERENICE,  perusing  the  apoloey  from  Beaki Cliadsey, 
which  her  raothw—wf  much  fagged  and  weary- 
handed  her  the  next  morning,  thought  that  it  read  like  the 
ovemight  gallantry  of  some  one  who  was  seeking  to  make 
uoaraa  without  chanRing  his  point  of  view.  Mrs.  Carter 
was  too  obviously  selNconscious.  She  protested  too  much. 
Berenice  knew  that  she  could  find  out  for  hendf  if  dit 
chose,  but  would  she  choose?  The  thought  mkopd  iinr» 

and  yet  who  was  she  to  jud^e  too  severdly?   ^ 

Cowperwood  came  in  bnght  and  eaily  to  put  at  good 
a  face  on  the  matter  as  he  could.  He  exi>Iamed  how  he 
and  Braxmar  had  g(»e  to  the  pdice  sudmi  to  make  a 
diarge;  how  Chadsey,  sobered  arrest,  had  abandcmed 
his  bravado  and  humbly  apologized.  When  viewni(  tM 
letter  handed  him  by  Mrs.  Carter  he  exclaimed: 

**Oh  yes.  He  was  very  glad  to  promise  to  write  that 
if  we  would  let  him  off.  Braxmar  seemed  to  think  it  was 
necessary  that  he  should.  I  wanted  the  judge  to  impose 
a  fine  and  let  it  go  at  dat.  He  was  dnnuk,  uid  that^t  aB 
there  was  to  it." 

He  assumed  a  very  unknowing  air  when  in  the  presence 
of  Berenice  and  her  mother,  but  iHien  aloae  with  tae  latter 
his  manner  changed  completely. 

"  Brazen  it  out,"  he  commanded.  "  It  doesn't  amount  to 
anything.  Braxmar  doesn't  believe  that  this  man  really 
knows  anything.  This  letter  is  enough  to  convince  Berenice. 
Put  a  good  face  on  it;  more  depenos  on  your  manner  than 
on  anything  else.  You're  much  too  upset.  That  won't 
do  at  all;  you'll  tell  the  whole  story  that  way."  ^   ^  * 

At  ^  same  time  he  privately  regarded  tnia  niddefit  as 
a  fine  windfafl  ot  dumoe— in  all  likelfliood  die  one 

455 


MICROCOPY  RESOLUTION  TEST  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


THE  TITAN 

which  would  serve  to  scare  the  Lieutenant  away.  Out- 
wardly, however,  he  demanded  effrontery,  assumption; 
and  Mrs.  Carter  was  somewhat  cheered,  but  when  she  was 
alone  she  cried.  Berenice,  coming  upon  her  acddaatally 
and  finding  her  eyes  wet,  exclaimed: 

"Oh,  mother,  please  don't  be  foolish.  How  can  you  act 
this  way?  We  had  better  go  up  in  the  country  smd  rett 
a  little  while  if  you  are  so  unstrung." 

Mrs.  Carter  protested  that  it  was  merely  nervous  re- 
action, but  to  Berenice  it  seemed  th&t  where  diere  wu  so 
much  smoke  there  must  be  some  fire. 

Her  manner  in  the  aftermath  toward  Braxmar  was 
gracious,  but  remote.  He  called  the  next  day  to  say  how 
sorry  he  was,  and  to  ask  her  to  a  new  diversion.  She 
sweet,  but  distant.  In  so  far  as  dhe  was  concerned  it 
plain  that  the  Beales  Chadsey  inctdeat  was  ckmdt  but 
did  not  accept  his  invitation. 

"Mother  and  I  are  planning  to  go  to  the  oountty  for 
a  few  days,"  she  observed,  genially.  "I  can't  say  just 
when  we  shall  return,  but  if  you  are  still  here  we  shall 
meet,  no  doubt.  You  must  be  sure  and  come  to  see  u^" 
She  turned  to  an  east  court-window,  where  the  morning  sun 
was  gleaming  on  some  flowers  in  a  window-box,  and  b^an 
to  pinch  off  a  dead  leaf  here  and  there. 

Braxmar,  full  of  the  tradition  of  American  romance, 
captivated  by  her  vibrant  chann;  her  poise  and  superiority 
under  the  circumstances,  her  obvious  readiness  to  dismiss 
him,  was  overconie,  as  the  human  mind  frequently  is,  by  a 
riddle  of  the  spirit,  a  chemical  reacdcm  as  mystenous  to  its 
victim  as  to  one  who  is  its  witness.  Stepping  forward  with 
a  morion  that  was  at  once  gallant,  reverent,  eager,  uncon- 
scious, he  exclaimed: 

"Berenice!  Miss  Fleming  I  Please  don't  send  me  away 
like  this.  Don't  leave  me.  It  isn't  anything  I  have  done, 
is  it?  I  am  mad  about  you.  I  can't  bear  to  think  that 
anything  that  has  happened  could  make  any  difference 
between  you  and  me.  I  haven't  had  the  courage  to  tell 
you  before,  but  I  want  to  tell  you  now.  I  have  been  in  love 
with  you  from  the  very  first  night  I  saw  you.  You  are 
such  a  wonderful  girl!  I  don't  feel  that  I  deserve  you, 
but  I  bve  you.  I  love  you  with  all  the  honor  and  fecot  in 


BEHIND  THE  ARRAS 

me.  I  admire  and  respect  3rou.  Whatever  may  or  nriay 
not  be  true,  it  is  all  one  and  the  same  to  me.  Be  my  wife, 
will  you?  Marry  me,  please!  Oh,  I'm  not  fit  to  be  the 
lacer  of  your  shoes,  but  I  have  position  and  I'll  make  a 
name  for  myself,  I  hope.  Oh,  Berenice!"  He  extended  his 
arms  in  a  dramatic  fashion,  not  outward,  but  downward, 
stiff  and  straight,  and  declared:  "I  don't  know  what  I 
shall  do  without  you.  Is  there  no  hope  for  me  at  all  ?" 
'  An  ardst  in  att  the  graces  of  sex — histrionic,  plastic, 
many-faceted— Berenice  debated  for  the  fraction  of  a 
miniuce  what  she  should  do  and  say.  She  did  not  love  «ie 
Lieu^ant  as  he  loved  her  by  Mtjrmeans,  and  somehow  this 
discovery  concerning  her  mother  shamed  her  pride,  sug- 
gMting  an  obligation  to  save  herself  in  one  form  or  another, 
wfcich  she  resented  bitterlv.  She  was  sorry  for  his  tactless 
proposal  at  this  time,  although  she  knew  well  enough  the 
mnocence  and  virtue  of  the  emotion  from  which  it  sprung. 

"Really,  Mr.  Braxmar,"  she  replied,  turning  on  him  with 
solemn  eyes,  "you  mustn't  ask  me  to  decide  that  now. 
I  know  how  you  feel.  I'm  afraid,  thoueh,  that  I  may  have 
been  a  little  misleading  in  my  manner.  1  didn't  mean  to  be. 
I'm  quite  sure  vou'd  better  forget  your  interest  in  me  for 
the  present  anyhow.  I  could  only  make  up  my  mind  m  «»c 
way  if  you  should  insist.  I  should  have  to  ask  you  to 
forget  me  entirely.  I  wonder  if  you  can  see  how  I  feel — 
how  it  hurts  me  to  say  this  ?" 

She  paused,  perfectly  poised,  yet  quite  moved  really,  as 
charming  a  figure  as  one  would  have  wished  to  see — part 
Greek,  part  Cmental — contemplative,  calculating. 

In  that  moment,  for  the  first  time,  Braxmar  realized  that 
he  was  talking  to  some  one  whom  he  could  not  comprehend 
really.  She  was  strangely  self-contained,  enigmatic,  more 
beautiful  perhaps  because  more  remote^  than  he  had  ever 
seen  her  before.  In  a  strange  flash  this  young  American 
saw  the  isles  of  Greece,  Cytherea,  the  lost  Atlantis,  Cyprus, 
and  its  Paphian  shrine.  His  eyes  burned  with  a  stranee, 
comprehending  luster;  his  color,  at  first  high,  went  oaTe. 

"I  can't  believe  you  don't  care  for  me  at  all,  Miss 
Berenice,"  he  went  on,  quite  strainedly.  "I  felt  you  did 
care  about  me.  But  here,"  he  added,  all  at  once,  widb 
a  real,  if  summonedf  mUitary  force,  "I  won't  bother  yw. 

457 


THE  TITAN 

You  do  understand  me.  You  know  how  I  fed.  I  won't 
diange.    Can't  we  be  friends,  anyhow?" 

He  held  out  his  hand,  and  she  took  it,  feeling  now  that 
die  was  putting  an  end  to  what  might  have  been  »m  idj^ 
romance. 

"Of  course  we  can,"  she  said.  "I  hope  I  shall  see  you 
again  soon.** 

After  he  was  gone  she  walked  into  the  adjoining  room  and 
sat  down  in  a  wicker  chair,  putting  her  dbows  on  her  knees 
and  resting  htr  chin  in  her  nands.  What  a  denouement  to 
a  thing  so  innocent,  so  charming!  And  now  he  was  ^one. 
She  would  not  see  him  txif  more,  would  notwant  to  se^m 
— not  much,  anyhow.  Life  had  sad,  even  ugly  facts.  (Mi 
yes,  yes,  and  she  was  beginning  to  perceive  them  dearly^ 

Scmie  two  days  later,  when  Berenice  had  brooded  an^ 
brooded  until  sne  could  endure  it  no  longer,  she  finally 
went  to  Mrs.  Carter  and  said:  "Mother,  why  don't  you 
t^  me  dl  ab<Nit  diis  Louisville  matter  so  diat  I  may  really 
know?  I  can  see  something  is  worrying  you.  Can't  you 
trust  me?  I  am  no  longer  a  child  by  any^  means,  and  I  am 
^fimir  daughter.  It  may  bdp  me  to  stnug^eB  ^Ingt  oi^ 
to  know  what  to  do." 

Mrs.  Carter,  who  had  always  played  a  game  of  lofty 
dKK^  loving  motherhood,  was  ereatly  taken  aback  by  this 
courageous  attitude.  She  fluu«d  and  chilled  a  little; 
then  decided  to  lie. 

"I  tdl  you  there  was  nothing  at  all,"  she  declared, 
nervoudy  and  pettishly.  "It  is  all  an  awful  mistake. 
I  wish  that  dreadful  man  could  be  punidied  severely  for 
what  he  said  to  me.  To  be  omxatffii  and  intuited  1^  vnqr 
before  my  own  child  1'* 

"Mother,"  questioned  Berenice,  fixing  her  with  thooe 
cool,  blue  eyes,  "why  don't  you  tell  me  all  about  Louis- 
ville? You  and  I  shouldn't  have  things  between  us. 
May1>e  I  can  help  you." 

A3l\  at  once  Mrs.  Carter,  realizing;  that  her  daughter  was 
no  longer  a  child  nor  a  mere  sociaf  butterfly,  but  a  woman 
superior,  cool,  sympathetic,  with  intuitions  much  deeper 
than  her  own,  sank  into  a  heavily  flowered  wing-chair  be- 
hind her,  and,  seeking  a  small  pocicet-handkerchief  with 
of»  hand,         the  otlwr  over  ner  qrea  aiMl  hagui  to  ay. 


BEHIND  THE  ARRAS 

"I  was  so  driven,  Bevy,  I  didn't  know  which  way  to 
turn.  Orfonel  GiUis  suggested  it.  I  wanted  to  keep  you 
and  Rolfe  in  school  and  give  you  a  chance.  It  isn  t  true 
—anything  that  horrible  man  said.  It  wasn  t  anything 
like  whathe  suggested.  Colonel  Gillis  and  several  others 
wanted  me  to  rent  them  bachelor  quarters,  and  that  s  the 
way  it  all  came  about.   It  wasn't  my  fault;  I  couldn  t  help 

myself,  Bevy."  , «, .  -in 

"And  what  about  Mr.  Cowperwoodr  mauiied  Berenice 

curiously.  She  had  begun  of  late  to  think  a  great  deal 
about  Cowperwood.  He  was  so  cod»  deep,  dynamic,  m  a 
^ay  gtsourceful,  like  herself.  .  , ^        ,  , 

^There's  nothing  about  him,"  r*phed  Mrs.  Carter,  look- 
ing up  defensively.  Of  all  her  men  friends  she  best  liked 
(>irperwood.  He  had  never  advised  her  to  evil  wajrs  or 
^ed  her  house  as  a  convenience  to  himself  alone.  He 
never  did  anything  but  help  me  out.  He  advised  me  to 
give  up  my  house  in  Louisville  and  come  East  and  devote 
myself  to  looking  after  you  and  Rolfe.  He  oflFered  to  help 
me  until  you  two  should  be  able  to  help  yourselves,  and  so 
I  came.  Oh,  if  I  had  only  not  been  so  foolish—*)  afiaitf^ 
fife!  But  vour  father  and  Mr.  Carter  jiwt  ran  throup^ 
everything. ' 

She  heaved  a  deep,  heartfelt  sig^. 

"Then  we  really  haven|t  anything  at  all,  have  we, 
mother — property  or  anything  else?" 

Mrs.  Carter  shook  her  head,  meaning  no. 

"And  the  mmey  we  have  bMn  qpending  i»  Mr.  Com- 
perwood's?" 

"Yes." 

Berenice  paused  and  looked  out  the  window  over_  the 
wide  stretch  of  park  which  it  commanded.  Framed  in  it 
like  a  picture  were  a  small  lake,  a  hill  of  trees,  with  a 
Japanese  pagoda  effect  in  the  foreground.  Over  the  hill 
were  the  yellow  towering  walls  of  a  great  hotel  in  Centnd 
Park  West.  In  the  street  below  could  be  heard  the  jingle 
of  street-cars.  On  a  road  in  the  park  could  be  seen  a  mov- 
ing line  of  pleasure  vehicles— society  taking  an  airing  in 
the  chill  November  afternoon. 

"Poverty,  ostracism,"  she  thoiudit.  And  should  she 
marry  ridi?  Of  course,  if  she  oouM.  And  whom  AmM 

459 


THE  TITAN 

she  marry?  The  Lieutenant?  Never.  He  was  really 
not  masterful  enough  mentally,  and  he  had  witnessed  her 
discomfiture.  And  who,  then?  Oh,  the  long  line  of  sillies, 
lie.  It-weights,  rakes,  ne'er-do-wells,  who,  combined  V  '*h 
amtr,  prosperous,  conventional,  muddle-headed  oofs,  con- 
stituted society.  Here  and  there,  at  far  jumps,  was  a  real 
man,  but  would  he  be  interested  in  her  if  he  knew  the  whole 
trudi  about  her? 

"Have  you  broken  with  Mr.  Bnamar?"  asked  her 
mother,  cunously,  nervously,  hopefolbr,  hopelessly. 

I  haven  t  seen  him  since,"  replied  Berenice,  '  ink  con- 
sc.  -atively.  "I  don't  know  whether  I  shall  or  ndt  I 
™t  to  think."  She  arose.  "But  don't  you  mind, 
mother.  Only  I  wish  we  had  some  other  way  of  livtig 
besides  ^eing  dependent  on  Mr.  Cowperwood.' 

She  walked  into  her  boudoir,  and  before  her  mirror  hci 
can  to  dress  for  a  dinner  to  which  she  had  been  invitedl 
So  It  ^^as  Cowperwood's  money  that  had  been  sustaining 
Aem  all  during  the  last  few  years;  and  she  had  been  so  ■ 
hbml  with  his  means— so  proud,  vain,  boastful,  superior.  \ 
And  he  had  only  fixed  her  with  those  inquiring,  examining  t 
eves.   Why?   But  she  did  not  need  to  ask  herself  why. 
She  knew  now.   What  a  game  he  had  been  playing,  and 
what  a  silly  she  had  been  not  to  see  it.   Did  her  mother  in 
any  way  suspect?   She  doubted  it.   This  queer,  para- 
doxical, impossible  world  t  The  eyes  of  Cowperwood  burned 
at  her  as  she  thought. 


CHAPTER  LHI 

A  DECLARATION  OF  LOVE 

Fok.  the  first  time  in  her  life  Berenice  now  pondered 
/seriously  what  she  coiild  do.  She  thought  of  m  r- 
riii|e,  but  decided  that  instead  of  sending  for  Braxmar  or 
tuHng  up  some  sickening  chase  of  an  individivd  even  less 
satisfactory  it  might  be  advisable  to  announce  in  a  simple 
•ociad  way  to  her  friends  that  her  mother  had  lost  her 
inoney,  and  that  she  herself  was  now  compelled  tt^^ake  up 
some  form  of  employment — the  teaching  of  danciRi,  per- 
haps, or  the  practice  of  it  professionally.  She  su^<ested 
this  calmly  to  her  mother  (me  day.  Mrs.  Carter,  who  had 
beat  kmg  a  parasite  really,  wiAcmt  any  constructive 
monetary  norions  of  real  import,  was  terrified.  To  think 
that  she  and  "Bevy,"  her  wonderful  dauehter,  and  by 
reaction  her  scm,  dbould  come  to  anything  so  numdrum  ami 
prosaic  as  ordinary  struggling  life,  and  after  all  her  dreams. 
She  sighed  and  cried  in  secret,  writing  Cowperwood  a 
cautious  explanation  and  asking  him  to  see  hear  privatdy 
in  Mew  York  when  he  returned. 

"  Don't  you  think  we  had  best  go  on  a  little  while  longer?** 
she  suggested  to  Berenice.  "It  just  wrings  mv  heart  to 
think  that  you,  with  your  qualuications,  should  have  to 
stoop  to  giving  dancing-lessons.  We  had  better  do  almost 
anything  for  a  while  yet.  You  can  make  a  suitable  mar- 
riage, and  then  ^  Terythinz  will  be  all  right  for  you.  It 
doesn't  matter '  ooaC  me.  I  can  live.  But  you — '  Mrs. 
Carter's  strainec^  eyes  indicated  the  misery  she  felt. 
Berenice  was  movt>d  by  this  affection  for  her,  which  she  knew 
to  be  gamine;  but  what  a  fool  her  mother  had  been, 
what  %  weak  reed,  indeed,  she  was  to  lean  upon! 

Cowperwood,  when  he  conferred  with  Mrs.  Carter, 
inasted        BocaiGe  wat  minocic,  nervomiy  twrjr,  to 


THE  TITAN 

wish  to  modify  her  state,  to  eschew  society  and  invalidate 
her  wondrous  charm  by  any  sort  of  professional  life.  By 
prearrangement  with  Mrs.  Carter  he  hurried  to  Pocono 
at  a  time  when  he  knew  that  Berenice  was  there  alone. 
Ever  since  the  Bealet  Chadsey  ittddent  she  luid  been 
evading  him. 

When  he  arrived,  as  he  did  about  one  in  the  aftem  - 
of  a  crisp  January  day,  there  was  snow  on  the  gro  , 
and  the  surroundins  landscape  waf  bathed  in  a  cryfUuiine 
light  that  gave  back  to  the  eyr  tbdless  facets  ofiister— 

{'ewel  beams  that  cut  space  with  a  flash.  The  automobile 
tad  been  introduced  by  now,  and  he  rode  in  a  touriog^ir 
of  eighty  horse-power  '  hat  gave  back  from  its  daric-lno^ 
varnished  surface  a  lacquered  light.  In  a  great  fur  coat 
and  cap  of  round,  black  lamb's-wool  he  arrived  at  the  door. 

"Well,  Bevy,"  he  exclaimed,  pretending  not  to  know  of 
Mrs.  Carter's  absence, "  how  are  you  i  How's  your  necfaer  ^ 
Is  she  in?" 

Berenice^  fatd  him  with  her  cool,  steady-gazing  eyes,  as 
Irank  and  incisive  as  they  were  daring,  and  smiled  him  an 
equivocal  welcome.  She  wore  a  blue  denim  painter's  apron, 
and  a  palette  of  many  colors  glistened  under  her  thumb. 
She  was  painting  and  thinking — thinking  being  her  special 
occupadon  diese  dayv,  and  her  thoughts  had  been  of  Brax- 
mar,  Cowperwood,  Kilmer  Duelma,  a  half-dozen  others, 
as  well  as  of  the  stage,  dancing,  painting.  Her  life  was 
in  a  mdring-pot,  as  it  were,  before  her;  again  it  was  Kke  a 
disarranged  puzzle,  the  pieces  of  which  might  be  fitted 
together  into  some  interesting  picture  if  she  could  but 
endure. 

"Do  come  in,"  she  said.  "It's  cold,  isn't  it?  Well, 
there's  a  nice  fire  here  for  you.  No,  mother  isn't  here. 
She  went  down  to  New  York.  I  sirauld  think  you  might 
have  found  her  at  the  apartment.  Are  you  in  New  York 
for  long?" 

She  was  gay,  cheerful,  genial,  but  ranote.  Cowp«wood 
felt  the  protective  gap  that  lay  between  him  and  her.  It 
had  always  been  there.  He  felt  that,  even  though  she 
might  understand  and  like  him,  yet  there  was  something- 
convention,  ambition,  or  some  deficiency  on  his  part — 
was  keeping  her  from  him,  keeping  her  eternally  dib* 


A  DECLARATION  OF  LOVE 

unt.  He  looked  about  the  room,  at  the  picture  she  was  at- 
tempting (a  snow-scape,  of  a  view  down  a  slope),  at  the 
view  ittelf  which  he  contemplated  from  the  wmdow,  at 
some  dancine  sketches  she  had  recently  executed  and  hung 
on  the  wall  for  the  time  being— lovely,  short  tmnc  mottvet. 
He  looked  at  her  in  her  interesting  and  becoming  pamters 
apron.  "Well,  Berenice,"  he  said,  "always  the  artist 
first.  It  is  your  worid.  You  will  never  escape  it.  These 
things  are  beautiful."  He  waved  an  ungloved  hand  in 
the  d-rection  of  a  choric  line.  "It  wasn't  your  mother  I 
came  to  see,  anyhow.  It  is  you.  I  had  sticii  a  cunoiu 
letter  from  her.  She  tells  me  you  want  to  give  up  soaety 
and  take  to  teaching  or  something  <rf  that  sort.  I  came 
because  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you  about  tln%  Don't  you 
think  you  are  acting  rather  hastily?" 

He  spoke  now  as  though  there  were  some  reasmi  entirdy 
jaisassodated  from  himsdf  that  was  impcUiiig  H|n  to  this 
interest  in  her.  .  \ 

Berenice,  brush  in  hand,  standmg  by  her  picture^  gav« 
him  a  look  that  was  cool,  curious,  defiant,  equivocal. 

"No,  I  don't  think  so,"  she  replied,  quietly.  "You 
know  how  things  have  been,  so  I  may  speak  quite  frankljj. 
I  know  that  mother'-  tnt^tions  were  always  of  the  best. 
Her  mouth  movi  i  t  "he  faintest  touch  of  sadness. 
"Her  heart,  I  am  ♦  '  better  than  her  head.  As  for 
your  motives,  I  am  .ird  to  believe  that  they  have  been 
of  the  best  also.  T  know  that  they  have  been,  in  fact — it 
would  be  ungenerous  of  me  to  suggest  anything  else." 
(Cowperwood  s  fixed  eyes,  it  seemed  to  her,  had  moved 
somewhere  in  their  deepest  depths.)  "Yet  I  don't  feel  we 
can  go  on  as  we  have  been  doing.  We  have  no  money  of 
our  own.  Why  dbouldn't  I  do  something  I  What  else  can 
I  reaUy  do?" 

She  paused,  and  Cowperwood  gazed  at  her,  quite  still. 
In  her  informal,  bunchy  painter's  apron,  and  with  her  blue 
eyes  looking  out  at  him  from  beneath  her  loose  red  hair,  it 
seemed  to  him  she  was  the  most  perfect  thing  he  had  ever 
known.  Such  a  keen,  fixed,  enthroned  mind.  She  was  so 
capable,  so  splendid,  and,  like  his  own,  her  eyes  were  un- 
afraid.   Her  spiritual  equipoise  was  undisturbed. 

"Berenice,"  he  said,  quietly,  "let  me  tell  you  something. 

46J 


THE  TITAN 


You  did  me  the  honor  just  now  to  speak  of  niy  motives  in 

f living  your  mother  money  as  of  the  best.  They  were — 
rom  my  own  point  of  view — the  best  I  have  ever  known. 
I  will  not  say  what  I  thought  they  were  in  the  beginning. 
I  know  what  they  were  now.  I  am  going  to  speak  otiite 
frankly  with  you,  if  you  will  let  me»  as  as  we  are  nera 
together.  I  don't  know  Aether  you  know  this  or  not, 
but  when  I  first  met  your  mother  I  only  knew  by  chance 
that  she  had  a  daughter,  and  it  was  of  no  particular  interest 
to  me  then.^  I  went  to  her  house  as  the  guest  of  a  finamdal 
fncod  of  mine  who  admired  her  greatly.  From  the  first  I 
mjrtdf  admired  her,  because  I  found  her  to  be  a  lady  to  the 
manner  bom — she  was  interesting.  One  day  I  happdied 
to  see  a  ph^b^raph  of  jrou  in  her  home,  and  beMrr?  I 
could  mention  it  she  put  it  away.  Perhaps  you  recall  the 
one.  It  is  in  profile — uken  when  you  were  about  sixteen."  i 
"Yes,  I  remember,"  replied  Berenice,  timffy — as  quietl]\ 
as  though  she  were  hearing  a  confession. 

"WelT,  that  picture  interested  me  intensely.  I  inquired 
abottt  you,  and  learned  all  I  could.  After  that  1  saw 
^4dnother  picture  of  you,  enlatged,  in  a  Louisville  photog- 
rapher's window.  I  boueht  it.  It  is  in  my  office  now— 
my  private  office—ia  Cucago.  You  are  standkig  bjr  a 
mantelpiece." 

**I  remember,"  replied  Berenice,  moved,  but  uncertain. 

"Let  me  tell  you  a  little  something  about  my  life,  will 
vou?  It  won't  take  long.  I  was  bom  in  Philadelphia. 
My  family  had  always  belonged  there.  I  have  been  in  dw 
banking  and  stn»*?t-railway  business  all  my  life.  My  first 
wife  was  a  Presbyterian  girl,  religious,  conventional.  She 
was  older  than  I  by  six  or  seven  vears.  I  was  happy  for 
a  while — five  or  six  years.  We  had  two  children — both  still 
living.  Then  I  met  my  present  wife.  She  was  younger 
than  m3rsdf— at  least  ten  years,  and  very  eood4ooking. 
She  was  in  some  respects  more  intelligent  than  my  first 
wife — at  least  less  conventional,  more  generous,  I  thought. 
I  fell  in  love  with  her,  and  when  I  eventually  left  Pfiua-  , 
delphia  I  sot  a  divorce  and  married  her.  I  was  greatly  in 
love  with  her  at  the  time.  I  thought  she  was  an  ideal  mate 
for  me,  and  I  still  think  she  has  many  qualities  which  n  ike 
her  attractive.   But  my  own  ideals  in  recard  to  women 

464 


A  DECLARATION  OF  LOVE 

have  all  the  time  been  slowly  chancing.  I  have  come  to 
see,  through  various  experiments,  thtt  me  it  not  the  ideal 
woman  for  me  nt  all.  Sne  does  not  undersund  n^e.  I  don't 
pretend  to  understand  myself,  but  it  has  occurred  to  me 
that  there  might  be  a  wtmian  somewhcfe  who  would  under- 
stand me  better  than  I  understand  myself,  who  would  see 
the  things  that  I  don't  see  about  myself,  and  would  like  me, 
anyhow.  I  might  as  well  td!  you  «iat  I  have  been  a  lover 
of  women  always.  There  is  just  one  ideal  thing  in  this 
woild^o  me,  and  that  is  the  woman  that  I  would  like  to 

"I  should  think  it  would  n»ake  it  rather  difficult  for  any 
one  woman  to  discover  just  which  woman  you  would  Um 
to  have?"  smiled  Berenice,  whimwmBy.  OBI|(Mfwooa  wn 
unabashed.  \ 
/  "It  would,  I  presume,  unless  she  should  diaiife  to  be  ne 
Wy  one  wnnnan  I  am  talkiag  ahout,"  ha  fqpmL  onpica- 
/«vdy.  .        .      \  - 

(  "1  should  think  she  would  have  her  woile  cnt  ^i^fer 
her  under  any  circumstances,"  added  BereniM^  Ui|ill]V«pt 
with  a  touch  of  sympathy  in  her  voice.  ^ 

"I  am  making  a  confession/'  replied  Cowpeiwood,  aef»- 
ously  and  a  Utile  heavily.  "1  am  not  apologizing  for  my- 
self. The  womv^n  I  have  known  would  make  ideal  wives 
for  some  men,  but  not  for  me.  USt  haa  taa^K  mt  diat 
much.   It  has  changed  me." 

"And  do  you  think  the  process  has  stopped  by  any 
meansi^'  she  replied,  quaintly,  with  that  air  <^  i^Mior 
banter  which  puzzled,  fascinated,  defied  him. 

"No,  I  will  not  say  that.  My  ideal  has  become  fixed, 
though,  apparently.  I  have  hadf  it  for  a  number  of  years 
now.  It  s[>oils  other  matters  for  me.  There  is  such  a 
thing  as  an  ideal.   We  do  have  a  pole-star  in  physics." 

As  he  said  this  Cowperwood  realized  that  for  nim  he  was 
making  a  very  remarkable  confession.  He  had  come  here 
primarily  to  magnetize  her  and  control  her  judgment.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  almost  the  other  way  about.  She 
was  almost  dominating  him.  Lithe,  slender,  resourceful, 
histrionic,  she  was  standing  before  hnn  making  him  explain 
himself,  only  he  did  not  see  her  so  much  in  that  light  as 
in  the  way  of  a  laige,  kindly,  mothering  intelligence  which 

465 


THE  TITAN 


could  see,  feel,  and  understand.  She  would  know  how  it 
was»  he  felt  sure.  He  could  make  himself  understood  if 
lie  tfied.  Whatever  he  was  or  had  been*  she  would  not  tak^ 
»  petty  view.  She  could  oM.  Her  unwen  thue  fSur  gaar> 
ameed  as  much. 

she  replied,  "we  do  have  a  pole-star,  but  you  do 
not  seem  able  to  find  it.   Do  yoto  expect  to  Bm  yoat  ideal 
in  any  living  woman?" 
"I  have  found  it,"  he  answered,  wondering  at  the  in- 

Snuity  and  complexity  of  her  miod— ^nd  of  nis  omn,  for 
at  matter  of  all  mind  indeed.  Ueep  below  deep  it  lay, 
staggering  him  at  rimes  by  its  fathomless  reaches.  I  hoftt 
jroii  will  take  seriously  what  I  am  going  to  say,  for  it  will 
explain  to  a^Mh.  When  I  began  to  be  interested  in  your 
picture  I  was  so  because  it  coincided  with  the  ideal  I  had  in 
mind— the  thing  that  you  think  chanses  swiftly.  That 
was  nearly  seven  yean  ago.  Knee  then  it  has  never 
changed.  When  I  saw  you  at  your  school  on  Riverside 
Drive  I  was  fully  convinced.  Although  I  have  said  nothing, 
L'ftave  remained  so.  Periiaps  you  think  I  had  no  ripit  ^ 
to  any  such  feelings.  Most  people  would  agree  with  you. 
I  had  them  and  do  have  them  just  the  same,  and  it  ex- 
plains my  relation  to  your  mother.  When  she  came  to  me 
once  in  Louisville  and  told  me  of  her  difficulties  I  was  ^d 
to  lidp  her  for  your  sake.  That  has  been  my  reaaon  em 
since,  although  she  does  not  know  that.  In  some  respects, 
Berenice  your  mother  is  a  little  dull.  All  this  while  1  have 
been  in  krve  widi  yoa — intensely  so.  As  you  stand  diere 
now  you  seem  to  me  amazingly  beauriful — the  ideal  I  have 
been  telling  }rou  about.  Don't  be  disturbed;  I  sha'n't 
press  any  attentkma  on  jroti."  (Berenice  had  moved  very 
slightly.  She  was  concerned  as  much  for  hio:  as  for  herself. 
His  power  was  so  wide,  his  power  so  great.  She  could  not 
hdp  taking  him  seriously  when  he  was  so  serious.)  "I  have 
done  whatever  I  have  done  in  connection  with  you  and  your 
mother  because  I  have  been  in  love  with  you  and  because 
I  wanted  vou  to  become  the  splendid  tidng  I  diou^t  you 
ou^t  to  become.  You  have  not  known  it,  but  you  are 
the  cause  of  my  building  the  house  on  Fifth  Avenue — the 
principal  reason.  I  wanted  to  build  something  worthy  of 
you.   A  dream?    Certainly.    Eveiy^ing  we  do  aeons 


A  DECLARATION  OF  LOVE 


Its  beauty,  if  there 


to  have  something  of  that  quality, 
is  anv»  k  dm  to  7011.  I  am  tt  bttMifU 
you. 

He  paused,  and  Berenice  gave  no  sign.  Her  first  impulse 
had  been  to  object,  but  her  vanity,  her  love  of  art,  her  love 
of  power — all  were  touched.  At  the  same  time  she  was 
cunous  now  as  to  irfiedmr  ha  had  merely  exnected  to  take 
her  as  his  nuatresa  or  to  wait  until  U<^  could  honor  harM 
his  wife. 

"I  sttppoae  you  are  wondering  whether  I  ever  expected 
to  marry  you  or  not,"  he  went  on,  getting  the  thought 
out  of  her  mind.  "I  am  no  different  from  many  men  in 
thiO' respect,  Berenice.  I  will  be  frank.  1  wanted  you  in 
any  wav  that  I  could  get  you.  I  was  living  in  the  hope  all 
ahAig  that  you  would  fall  in  love  with  me — as  I  had  with 
you.   I  hated  ^  raxmar  here,  not  long  aeo,  when  he  ap- 

Eiared  on  the  scene,  but  I  could  never  nave  thoucht  of 
terfering.  I  was  quite  prepared  to  g^ve  you  up.  I  have 
envied  every  man  I  have  ever  seen  with  you — young  and 
old.  I  have  even  envied  your  mother  for  being  so  dose 
to  you  when  I  could  not  be.  At  die  same  time  I  hat*, 
wanted  you  to  have  everything  that  would  help  you  in 
any  way.  I  did  not  want  to  interfere  with  you  in  case  y(>u 
found  some  one  vihom  you  could  truly  love  if  I  knew  mat 
you  could  not  love  me.  There  is  the  whole  story  outside 
of  anything  you  may  know.  But  it  is  not  because  of  this 
diat  I  came  to-day.   Not  to  tdl  you  this." 

He  paused,  as  u  expecting  her  to  say  something,  t^^  >.^^ 
she  made  no  comment  beyond  a  questioning  "  Yes^ 

"The  thing  that  I  have  come  to  say  is  that  I  want  vou 
to  go  on  as  you  were  before.  Whatever  you  may  think  of 
me  or  of  vrhzt  1  have  just  told  you,  I  want  you  to  believe 
that  I  am  sincere  and  disinterested  in  what  I  am  telling 
you  now.  My  dream  in  connection  with  you  is  not  quite 
over.  Chance  might  make  me  digiUe  if  you  shoMold 
happen  to  care.  But  I  want  you  to  go  on  and  be  happy, 
regardless  of  me.  I  have  dreamed,  but  I  dare  say  it  has 
been  a  mistake.  Hold  your  head  hi^ — ^you  have  a  right 
to.  Be  a  lady.  Many  any  one  you  really  love.  I  vnll 
see  that  you  have  a  suitable  marriage  portion.  I  love  you, 
Betenica,  but  I  wffi  make  it  a  fotheiiy  aSectioo  horn  taw 

467 


THE  TITAN 


on.  When  I  die  I  will  put  you  in  my  will.  But  go  on  now 
in  the  spirit  you  were  gmng  before.  I  really  can't  be  happy 
unless  I  think  you  are  going  to  be." 

He  paused,  still  looking  at  her,  believing  for  the  time 
being  whzt  he  said.  If  he  should  die  she  would  find  her- 
self in  his  will.  If  she  were  to  go  on  and  socialize  and 
seek  she  might  find  some  one  to  love,  but  also  she  might 
think  of  him  more  kindly  before  she  did  so.  What  would 
be  the  cost  of  her  as  a  ward  compared  to  his  satisfa^on  and 
delight  in  having  her  at  least  friendly  and  sympathetic  and 
being  in  her  good  graces  and  confidence? 

Berenice,  who  had  alvfflrs  been  moie  or  less  interested  in 
him,  temperamentattf^^sed,  indeed,  in  his  direction  'be- 
cause of  nis  efficiency,  simplicity,  directness,  and  force,  was 
especially  touched  in  this  instance  by  his  utter  frankness 
and  generosity.   She  might  question  his  temperamental 
control  over  his  own  sincerity  in  the  future,  but  she  could 
scarcely  question  that  at  present  he  was  sincere.  More- 
over,  his  long  period  of  secret  love  and  admiration,  the  \ 
thought  of  so  powerful  a  man  dreaming  of  her  in  this  fash- 
ion, was  so  flattering.    It  soothed  her  troubled  vanity  and 
shame  in  what  had  gone  before.    His  straightforward  con- 
fession had  a  kind  of  nobility  which  was  electric,  moving. 
She  looked  at  him  as  he  stoodf  there,  a  little  gray  about  the 
tonfrfea-^e  most  appealing  ornament  of  some  men  to 
some  women — and  for  the  life  of  her  she  could  not  help 
being  moved  by  a  kind  of  tenderness,  sympathy,  mothering 
affection.   Obviously  he  did  need  the  woman  his  attitude 
seemed  to  show  that  he  needed,  some  woman  of  culture, 
spirit,  taste,  amorousness;  or,  at  least,  he  was  entitled  to 
dream  of  her.    As  he  stood  before  her  he  seemed  a  kind  of 
superman,  and  yet  also  a  bad  boy — handsome,  powerful, 
hopeful,  not  so  very  much  older  than  herself  now,  impelled 
by  some  blazing  internal  force  which  harried  him  and 
on.    How  much  did  he  really  care  for  her?   How  much 
could  he?   How  much  could  he  care  for  a..y  one?  Yet 
see  all  he  had  done  to  interest  her.    What  did  that  mean? 
To  say  all  this?  To  do  all  this?    Outside  was  his  car 
brown  and  radiant  in  the  snow.   He  was  the  great  Frank 
Algernon  Cowperwood,  of  Chicago,  and  he  was  pleading 
wiSi  her,  a  mere  chit  of  a  girl,  to  be  kind  to  him,  not  to  put 


A  DECLARATION  OF  LOVE 

him  out  of  her  life  oitirely.  It  touched  her  intdlec^  her 

pride,  her  fancy. 

Aloud  she  said:  "I  like  you  better  now.  I  really  beheve 
in  you.  I  never  did,  quite,  before.  Not  that  I  think  I 
ought  to  let  you  spend  your  money  on  me  or  mother — I 
don't.  But  I  admire  )rou.  You  make  me.  I  understand 
how  it  is,  I  think.  I  know  what  your  ambitions  are.  I 
have  always  felt  that  I  did,  in  part.  But  you  mustn't  talk 
to  me  any  more  now.  I  want  to  think.  I  want  to  think 
over  what  you  have  said.  I  don't  know  whether^  I  can 
bring  myself  to  it  or  not."  (i^e  noticed  that  his  eyes 
seemed  to  move  somehow  in  theirNleepMt  depths  agam.) 
"But  we  won't  talk  about  it  any  more  at  present." 

"But,  Berenice,"  he  added,  with  a  real  plea  in  his  voice» 
"I  wonder  if  you  do  undencand.  I  have  bccn)po  ioiici]^— 
I  am-"  \ 

"Yes,  I  do,"  she  replied,  holding  out  her  han^.  "We 
are  goine  to  be  friends,  whatever  happens,  from  now  on, 
ause  I  really  like  you.   You  mustn  t  ask  me  to  decjde 


I  can't  do  it.   I  dafft 


because 

about  die  other,  though,  to-day. 
want  to.    I  don't  care  to." 

"Not  when  I  would  so  gladly  give  you  everything — ^when 
I  need  it  so  little?" 

"Not  until  I  think  it  out  for  myself.  I  don't  think  so, 
though.  No,"  she  replied,  with  an  air.  "There,  Mr.  Guar- 
dian Fadier,"  she  laughed,  pushing  his  hand  away. 

Cowperwood's  heart  bounded.  He  would  have  given 
millions  to  take  her  close  in  his  arms.  As  it  was  he  smiled 
appealingly. 

'Don't  you  want  to  jump  in  and  come  to  New  York 
with  me  ?  If  your  mother  isn't  at  the  apartment  you  could 
stop  at  the  Netherland." 

'  No,  not  to-day.  I  expect  to  be  in  soon.  I  will  let 
you  know,  or  mother  will.' 

He  bustled  out  and  into  the  machine  after  a  moment  of 
parley,  waving  to  her  over  the  purpling  snow  of  the  even- 
ing as  his  machine  tore  eastward,  planning  to  make  New 
York  by  dinner-time.  If  he  coulcf  just  keep  her  in 
friendly,  sympathetic  attitude.   If  he  only  could! 


CHAPTER  LIV 


WANTED— Fimr-YBAR  nUUICHISBS 

WHATEVER  his  momentary  satisfaction  in  her 
friendly  acceptance  of  his  confession,  the  uncertain 
attitude  of  Berenice  left  Cowperwood  about  where  he  was 
before.  By  a  strange  stroke  of  fate  Braxmar,  his  young 
rival,  had  been  eliminated,  and  Berenice  had  been  made 
to  see  him,  Cowperwood,  in  his  true  colors  of  love  and  of 
service  for  her.  Yet  plainly  she  did  not  accept  them  at  his 
own  valuation.  More  than  ever  was  he  conscious  of  the 
fact  that  he  had  fallen  in  tow  of  an  amazing  individual,  one 
who  saw  life  from  a  distinct  and  peculiar  point  of  view  and 
who  was  not  to  be  bent  to  his  will.  That  fact  more  than 
anythine  else — ^for  her  grace  and  beauty  merely  em- 
blazcHied  it— caused  him  to  fall  into  a  hopeless  infatuation. 
He  said  to  himself  over  and  over,  "Well,  I  can  live  with- 
out her  if  I  must,"  but  at  this  stage  the  mere  thought  was 
an  actual  stab  in  his  vitals.  What,  after  dl,  was  Hie, 
wealth,  fame,  if  you  couldn't  have  the  woman  you  wanted 
— ^love,  that  indefinable,  unnamable  coddling  of  the  spirit 
which  the  strongest  almost  more  than  the  weakest  crave? 
At  last  he  saw  clearly,  as  within  a  chalice-like  nimbus, 
that  the  ultimate  end  of  fame,  power,  vigor  was  beauty,  and 
that  beauty  was  a  compound  of  the  taste,  the  emotion,  the 
innate  culturie,  passion,  and  dreams  of  a  woman  like 
Berenice  Fleming.  That  was  it:  that  was  IT.  And 
beyond  was  nothmg  save  crumbling  a^,  darkness,  silence. 

In  the  mean  time,  owing  to  the  preliminary  activity  and 
tact  of  his  agents  and  advisers,  the  Sunday  newspapen 
were  vying  with  one  another  in  describing  the  wonders  of 
his  new  house  in  New  York — its  cost,  the  value  of  its 
ground,  the  wealthy  citizens  with  whom  the  Cowperwoodf 
would  IMW  be  neighbors.   There  i^re  double<olinim 

470 


WANTED— FIFTY-YEAR  FRANCHISES 

pictures  of  AOeen  and  Cowpemood,  with  articles  indicating 
them  as  prospective  entertainers  on  a  grand  scale  who 
would  unquestionably  be  received  because  of  their  tre- 
mendous wealth.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  this  was  purely  new»- 
paper  gossip  and  speculation.  While  the  general  columns 
made  news  and  capital  of  his  wealth,  special  society  columns, 
which  dealt  with  the  ultra-fashionable,  ignored  him  entirely. 
Already  the  machination  of  certain  Chicago  social  figures  m 
distributing  information  as  to  his  past  was  discernible  in 
the  attitude  of  those  clubs,  organizations,  and  even  churches, 
membership  in  which  constitutes  a  form  of  social  passport 
to  better  and  higher  earthly,  if  not  spiritual,  realms.  His 
emissaries  were  active  enough,  but  soon  found  that  their 
end  was  not  to  be  gained  in  a  day.  Manv  were  waiting 
locally,  anxious  enough  to  get  in,  and  with  social  equip- 
ments which  the  Cowperwoods  could  scarcely  boast.  After 
being  blackballed  by  one  or  two  exclusive  clubs,  seeing 
his  application  for  a  pew  at  St.  Hiomas's  quietly  pigeon- 
holed for  the  present,  and  his  invitations  declined  by  sev- 
eral multimillionaires  whom  he  met  in  the  course  of  com- 
mercial transactions,  he  began  to  feel  that  his  splendid 
home,  aside  from  its  final  purpose  as  an  art-museum*  could 
be  of  little  value. 

At  the  same  time  Cowperwood's  financial  genius  was  con- 
stantly being  rewarded  by  many  new  phases  of  materiality, 
chiefly  by  an  offensive  and  defensive  alliance  he  was  now 
able  to  engineer  between  himself  and  the  house  of  Haeckel- 
heimer,  Gotloeb  &  Q>.  Seeing  the  iron  manner  in  which  he 
had  managed  to  wrest  victory  out  of  defeat  after  the  first 
senously  contested  election,  these  gentlemen  had  experi- 
enced a  change  of  heart  and  armounced  that  they  would 
now  gladly  help  finance  any  new  enterprise  which  Cowper- 
wood  might  undertake.  Among  many  other  financiers, 
they  had  heard  of  his  triumph  in  coimection  with  the  fail- 
ure of  American  Match. 

"Dot  must  be  a  right  clefFer  man,  dot  Cowperwood," 
Mr.  Gotloeb  told  several  of  his  partners,  rubbing  his  hands 
andsmihng.    "I  shouldt  like  to  meet  him." 

And  so  Cowperwood  was  manoeuvered  into  the  giant 
bankmg  <aEce,  where  Mr.  Gotloeb  extended  a  genial 
hand.  ^ 

471 


THE  TITAN 

"I  hear  much  of  Chicawkgo,"  he  explained,  in  hit 

German,  semi-Hebraic  dialect,  "but  almozd  more  uff  you. 
Are  you  goink  to  swallow  up  all  de  street-railwaiss  unt 
defatnl  loats  out  dere?" 

Cowperwood  smiled  his  most  ingenuous  smile. 

"Why?   Would  you  like  me  to  leave  a  few  for  y;ou?** 

"Not  dot  exzaely,  but  I  might  not  mint  diarink  in  aome 
uff  dem  wit  you.  * 

"You  can  join  with  me  at  any  time,  Mr.  Gotloeb,  as  you 
mutt  know.  The  door  it  alwayt  ji«ty,  very  vdile  open 
for  you." 

^  "I  musd  look  into  dot  some  more.  It  loogs  very  prom- 
inns  to  me.    I  am  gladt  to  meet  you." 

Ine  great  external  element  in  Cowperwood's  finanpal 
success— ^and  one  which  he  himself  had  foreseen  from  \he 
very  beginning — was  the  fact  that  Chicago  was  developing 
constantly.  What  had^  been  when  he  arrived  a  sogg]^ 
niessy  plain  strewn  with  shanties,  ragged  sidewalks,  ^ 
higgledy-piggledy  business  heart,  was  t  ^w  truly  an  astound' 
ing  metropoUs  which  had  passed  the  million  mark  in  popu-i 
lation  and  which  stretraed  proud  and  stirnig  over  die* 
greater  part  of  Cook  County.  Where  once  had  been  a 
meager,  makeshift  financial  section,  with  here  and  there 
only  a  splendid  business  building  or  hotel  or  a  public 
office  of  some  kind,  there  were  now  canon-like  streets 
lined  with  fifteen  and  even  eighteen  story  office  buildings, 
from  the  upper  stories  of  ixmich,  as  frmn  watch-towers, 
might  be  surveyed  the  vast  expanding  regions  of  simple 
home  life  below.  Farther  out  were  districts  of  mansions, 
parks,  pleasure  resorts,  great  worlds  of  train-yards  and 
manufacturing  areas.  In  the  commercial  heart  of  this 
world  Frank  Algernon  Cowperwood  had  truly  become  a 
figure  of  giant  significance.    How  wonderful  it  is  that  men 

trow  until,  like  colossi,  they  bestride  the  world,  or,  like 
anyan-trees,  they  drop  roots  from  every  brandi  and  are 
themselves  a  forest — a  forest  c'  intricate  commercial  life, 
of  which  a  thousand  material  aspects  are  the  evidence. 
His  street-railway  properties  were  like  a  net — the  parasite 
Gold  Thread — linked  together  as  they  were,  and  draining 
two  of  the  three  important  "sides"  of  the  city. 
In  1886,  when  ht  nad  fint  lecured  a  fbotkdd,  they  had 

47* 


WANTED— FIFTY-YEAR  FRANCHISES 

been  capitalized  at  between  six  and  seven  millions  (every 
device  for  issuing  a  dollar  on  real  property  having  bcoi  ex- 
hausted). To-day,  under  his  management,  they  were  capi- 
talized at  between  sixty  and  seventy  millions.  The  majority 
of  the  stock  issued  and  sold  was  subject  to  a  financial  de- 
vice whereby  twenty  per  cent,  controlled  eighty  per  cent., 
G)wperwooa  holding  that  twenty  per  cent,  rnd  borrowing 
money  on  it  as  hypothecated  collateral.  In  t  le  case  of  the 
West  Side  corporation,  a  corporate  issue  of  over  thirty 
millifMtt  had  been  imrae,  and  these  stocks,  owing  to  tKe 
tremendous  carrying  power  of  the  roads  and  the  swelling 
traffic  night  and  morning  of  poor  sheep  who  paid  their 
hafd-e9med  nickels,  had  a  market  value  which  gave  the 
roaiO  an  assured  physical  value  of  about  three  times  the 
such  for  which  it  could  have  been  built.  The  North  Chicago 
company,  which  in  1886  had  a  physical  value  of  Httle  more 
than  a  million,  could  not  now  be  duplicated  for  less  than 
seven  millions,  and  was  capitalized  at  ne-?rly  fifteen  millions. 
The  road  was  valued  at  over  one  hundred  thousand  dollars 
more  per  mile  than  the  sum  for  which  it  could  actually 
have  been  replaced.  Pity  the  poor  groveling  hack  at  the 
bottom  who  has  not  the  brain-power  either  to  understand 
or  to  control  that  which  his  very  presence  and  necessities 
create. 

These  tremendous  holdings,  pa)ring  from  ten  to  twelve 
per  cent,  on  every  hundred-dollar  share,  wtre  in  the  con- 
trol, if  not  in  the  actual  ownei^ip,  of  Cowperwood. 
Millions  in  loans  that  did  not  appear  on  the  books  of  the 
companies  he  had  converted  into  actual  cash,  wherewith 
he  had  bought  houses,  lands,  equipages,  paintings,  govern- 
ment bonds  of  the  purest  gold  value,  thereby  assuring  him- 
self to  that  extent  of  a  fortune  vaulted  and  locked,  abso- 
lutely secure.  After  much  toiling  and  moiling  on  the  part 
of  his  overworked  legal  department  he  had  secured  a 
consolidation,  under  the  title  of  the  Consolidated  Traction 
Company  of  Ijlinois,  of  all  outlying  lines,  each  having 
separate  franchises  and  capitalized  separately,  yet  (grated 
by  an  am?-.ing  hocus-pocus  of  contracts  and  agreements 
in  smelc,  harmonious  union  with  all  Ms  other  properties. 
The  North  and  West  Chicago  companies  he  now  proposed 
to  unite  into  a  third  company  to  be  called  die  Uniofi  Trac- 

473 


i  I 

i 


THE  TITAN 


tkm  Company.   By  takins  up  die  ten  and  twdve  per  cent. 

issues  oiF  the  old  North  ana  West  companies  and  giving  two 
for  one  of  the  new  six-per-cent.  one-hundred-doUarHskare 
UnkMi  Traction  stocks  in  their  Mead,  he  could  aadsfy  ^ 
current  stockholders,  who  were  apparently  made  some- 
what better  off  thereb)!;,  and  still  create  and  leave  for  him- 
self a  handsome  margin  of  nearly  ei^^  million  di^an. 
With  a  renewal  of  his  franchises  for  twenty,  fifty,  or  one 
hundred  years  he  would  have  fastened  on  the  city  of 
Chicago  tne  burden  of  yielding  interest  on  this  somewhat 
fictitious  value  and  would  leave  himself  personally  worth 
in  the  neighborhood  of  one  hundred  millions. 

This  matter  of  extending;  his  franchises  was  a  most 
difficult  and  intricate  busmess,  however.  It  involved 
overcoming  or  outmtting  a  recwit  and  very  treacherous 
increase  of  local  sentiment  against  him.  This  had  been  oc- 
casioned by  various  details  which  related  to  his  elevated 
roads.  To  the  two  lines  already  built  he  now  added  ii 
third  property,  the  Union  Loop.  This  he  prepared  to  con- 
nect not  only  with  his  own,  but  with  other  outside  elevated 
properties,  chief  among  which  was  Mr.  Schryhart's  South 
Side  **L."  He  would  then  farm  out  to  his  enemies  the 
privilege  of  running  trains  on  this  new  line.  However  un- 
willingly, they  would  be  forced  to  avail  themselves  <^  the 

Eroffered  opportunity,  because  within  the  region  covered 
y  the  new  loop  was  the  true  congestion — here  every^  one 
desired  to  come  either  once  or  twice  during  the  day  or  night. 
By  this  means  Cowperwood  would  secure  to  his  property  a 
paying  interest  from  the  start. 

This  scheme  aroused  a  really  unprecedented  antagonism 
in  the  breasts  of  Cowperwood's  enemies.  By  the  Ameel- 
Hand-Schryhart  contingent  it  was  looked  upou  as  nothing 
short  of  diabolical.  The  newspapers,  directed  by  such  men 
as  Haguenin,'Hyssop,  Ormonde  Ricketts,  and  Truman  Les- 
lie MacDonald  (whose  father  was  now  dead,  and  whose 
thoughts  as  editor  of  the  Inquirer  were  almost  solely  di- 
rected toward  driving  Cowperwood  out  of  Chicago),  be- 
gan to  shout,  as  a  last  resort,  in  the  interests  of  democ- 


more  straps  in  the  rush  hours,  three-cent  fares  for  working- 
nen,  morning  and  ev«iii^  free  txu^dta  ftom  idl  of  Cow> 


Cowperwood's  lines)  ,^  no 


474 


WANTED-FIFTY-YEAR  FRANCHISES 

perwood's  lines  north  to  west  and  v^est  to  i:orth,  twenty  pf.r 
cait.  of  the  gross  income  of  his  lines  to  be  paid  to  the  city. 
The  masses  should  be  made  cognizant  of  their  individual 
n^hts  and  privileges.  Such  a  course,  while  decidedly 
mimical  to  Cowperwood's  interests  at  the  present  time, 
and  as  such  strongly  favored  by  the  majority  of  his  oppo- 
nents, had  nevertheless  its  disturbing  elements  to  an  ultra- 
con  servacive  like  Hosmer  Hand. 

"I  don't  know  about  this,  Norman,"  he  remarked  to 
Schryhart,  on  one  occasion.  "I  don't  know  about  this. 
It  s  one  thmg  to  stir  up  the  public,  but  it's  another  to  make 
th«n  forget.  This  is  a  restless,  socialistic  country,  and 
CIttcago  is  the  very  hotbed  and  center  of  it.  Still,  if  it 
will  serve  to  trip  him  up  I  suppose  it  will  do  for  the 

E resent.  The  newspapers  can  ptobably  smooth  it  aU  over 
Iter.   But  I  don't  know." 

Mr.  Hand  was  of  that  order  of  mind  that  sees  socialism 
as  a  hornble  importation  of  monarchy-ridden  Europe. 
Why  couldn  t  the  people  be  satisfied  to  allow  the  stionjr, 
intelligent,  God-feanng  men  of  the  community  to  arrange 
things  for  them r  Wasn't  that  what  democracy  meant? 
Certainly  it  was— he  himself  was  one  of  the  strong.  He 
could  not  help  distrusting  all  this  radical  palaver.  Still, 
anything  to  hurt  Cowperwood— anything. 

Cowperwood  was  not  slow  to  realize  Aat  public  senti- 
ment was  now  in  danger  of  being  thoroughly  crystalli'ed 
against  him  by  newspaper  agitation.  Although  his  fran- 
chises would  not  expire-the  Urge  majority  of  them— before 
r  "j  *T  I'  .'^3.  yet  if  things  went  on  at  this  rate  it  would 
be  doubtful  soon  whether  ever  again  he  would  be  able  to 
win  another  election  by  methods  legitimate  or  illegitimate, 
ttunery  aldermen  and  councilmen  might  be  venal  and 
greedy  enough  to  do  anything  he  should  ask,  provided  he 
was  wilhng  to  pay  enough,  but  even  the  thickest-hided,  the 
most  voracious  and  corrupt  politician  could  scarcely  with- 
stand the  searchmg  glare  o(  publicity  and  the  infuriated 
rage  of  a  possiblv  aroused  public  opinion.  By  degrees  this 
tLTw^  ""^-^ng^orts  of  the  newspapers,  was 

««l  A^^^^  *  twenty-year  extension  of  franchises 
not  destined  to  expire  for  seven  years  was  too  much.  It 

47S 


THE  TITAN 

could  not  be  done.  Even  suborned  councilmen  would 
be  unwilline  to  imderuke  it  just  now.  Then  mn  noe 
things  which  even  politically  are  impossible. 

To  make  matters  worse,  the  twenty-year-franchise  limit 
was  really  not  at  all  sufficient  for  his  present  needs.  Ini 
order  ^o  brine  about  the  consolidation  of  his  North  and 
West  surface  unes,  which  he  was  now  proposing  and  on  the 
strength  of  which  he  wished  to  issue  at  least  two  hundred 
million  dollars'  worth  of  one-hundred-doUar-six-per-cent. 
shares  in  pkwe  of  the  seventy  millito  dollars  currmt  of 
ten  and  timTe  per  cents.,  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  secure 
a  muc*  more  lespecfable  term  of  years  than  the  brief  one 
now  permitted  by  the  state  Ittislature,  even  providing  that 
diis  latter  could  be  obtained. 

*'  Peeble  are  not  ferry  much  indrested  in  tees  short-time 
frangizes,"  observed  Mr.  Gotloeb  once,  when  Cowperwood 
was  talking  the  matter  over  with  him.  He  wanted  Raeckel- 
heimer  &  Co.  to  underwrite  the  whole  issue.  "Dey  are  8<| 
ini^;ure.  Now  if  you  couldt  get,  say,  a  frangize  for  fiftyi 
ot  one  hunnert  years  or  something  like  dot  your  stocks 
wouldt  go  off  like  hot  cakes.  I  know  where  I  couldt  dis- 
pose ot  fifQT  million  dollars  off  dem  in  Germany  afeoe.'* 

He  was  most  unctuous  and  pleading. 

Cowperwood  understood  this  quite  as  well  as  Gotloeb, 
if  not  better.  He  was  not  at  all  sati.  Tied  with  the  thought 
of  obtaining  a  l>c||gariy  twenty-year  extension  for  his  dant 
schemes  when  cities  like  liiiladelphia,  Bostra,  New  Yoric, 
and  Pittsburg  were  apparently  glad  to  grant  their  cor- 
porations franchises  which  would  not  expire  for  ninety-nine 
years  at  the  earliest,  and  in  most  cases  were  given  in  perpe- 
tuity. This  was  the  kind  of  franchise  favored  by  the  great 
moneyed  houses  of  New  York  and  Europe,  and  which  Got- 
loeb, and  even  Addison,  locally,  were  demanding. 

"It  is  certainly  important  that  we  get  these  franchises 
renewed  for  fifty  years,"  Addison  used  to  say  to  him,  and 
it  was  seriously  and  disagreeably  true. 

The  various  lights  of  Cowperwood's  l^al  department, 
constantly  on  the  search  for  new  legislative  devices,  were 
not  slow  to  grasp  the  import  of  the  situation.  It  was 
not  long  before  the  resourceful  Mr.  Joel  Avery  appeared 
with  a  suggestion. 

476 


WANTED— FIFTY-YEAR  FRANCHISES 

"Did  you  notice  what  the  state  legislature  of  New  York 
is  doing  in  connection  with  the  various  local  transit  prob- 
lems down  there  P"  asked  this  honorable  gentleman  of 
Cowperwood,  one  morning,  ambling  in  when  announced 
and  seating  himself  in  the  great  presence.  A  half-burned 
cigar  was  between  his  fingers,  and  a  little  round  felt  hat 
looked  peculiarly  rakish  above  his  sinister,  intellectual, 
constructive  face  and  e^  es. 

"No,  I  didn't,"  replied  Cowperwood,  who  had  actually 
noted  ttid  pondered  upon  the  item  in  question,  but  who  did 
not  care  to  say  so.  "I  saw  something  about  it»  but  I 
didn't  pay  much  attention  to  it.    What  of  itf* 

"Well,  it  plans  to  authorize  a  body  of  four  or  five  men — 
one  branch  in  New  York,  one  in  Buffalo,  I  presume — to 
grant  all  new  franchises  and  extend  old  ones  with  the 
consent  of  the  various  local  communities  involved.  They 
are  to  fix  the  rate  of  compensation  to  be  paid  to  the  state 
or  the  dtv,  and  the  rates  of  fare.  They  can  regulate  trans- 
fers, stock  issues,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  I  was  t  hinking 
if  at  any  time  we^  find  this  business  of  renewing  the  fran- 
chises too  uncertain  here  we  might  go  into  the  state  legis- 
lature and  see  what  can  be  done  about  introducing  a  public- 
service  commission  of  that  kind  into  this  state.  We  an 
not  Mie  only  corporatimi  that  would  wdcome  it.  Of 
a)urse,  it  would  be  better  if  there  were  a  general  or  special 
demand  for  it  outside  of  ourselves,  ft  ought  not  to 
onnnate  with  us." 

He  stared  at.Cowperwood  heavily,  the  latter  letumtBS  a 
reflective  gaze.  • 

in  that        **  ™  "  ^  ^  something 

Henceforth  the  thought  of  instituting  such  a  commission 
never  left  Cowperwood's  mind.  It  contained  the  germ  of 
a  solution— the  possibility  of  extending  his  franchises  for 
fifty  or  even  a  hundred  years. 

This  plan,  as  Cowperwood  was  subsequently  to  discover, 
was  a  thing  more  or  less  expressly  forbidden  by  the  state 
constitution  of  Illinois.  The  latter  provided  that  no  special 
or  exclusive  pnvilege,  immunity,  or  franchise  whatsoever 
should  be  eranted  to  any  corporation,  association,  or  indi- 
vidual Yet,  "What  it  a  littfc  matter  like  the  coiititution 

477 


THE  TITAN 


between  friends,  anyhow  P"  some  one  had  already  asked. 
There  are  fads  in  legislation  as  well  as  dusty  pieeonholes 
in  which  phases  of  older  law  are  tucked  away  and  torgotten. 
Many  eanier  ideals  of  the  constitution-makers  had  long 
since  been  conveniently  obscured  or  nullified  by  decisions, 
appeals  to  the  federal  government,  appeals  to  the  state 
government,  communal  contracts,  and  the  like—fine  cob- 
webby figments,  all,  but  sufficient,  just  the  same,  to  render 
inoperaave  the  original  intention.  Besides,  Cowperwood 
had  but  small  respect  for  either  the  intelligence  or  the  self- 
protective  capacity  of  such  men  as  constituted  the  rural 
voting  element  of  the  etate.  From  his  lawyers  and  from 
others  he  had  heard  innumerable  droll  stories  of  life  in  the 
state  legislature,  and  the  state  counties  and  towns-^-on 
the  benoi,  at  the  rural  huskings  where  the  state  electidnt 
were  won,  in  country  hotels,  on  country  roads  and  farms. 
"One  dav  as  I  was  getting  on  the  train  at  Petunkey,"  old 
General  Van  Sickle,  or  Judge  Dickenshe^ts,  or  ex- Judge 
Avery  would  begin — and  then  would  follow  some  amazing 
narration  of  rural  immorality  or  dullness,  or  political  or 
social  misconception.  Of  the  total  population  of  the  state 
at  this  time  over  half  were  in  the  city  itself,  and  these  he 
had  managed  to  keep  in  control.  For  the  remaining 
million,  divided  between  twelve  small  cities  r.  :  an  agri- 
cultural population,  he  had  small  respect.  What  did  this 
handful  of  yokels  amount  to,  anyhow? — dull,  frivoling, 
barn-dancing  boors. 

The  great  state  of  Illinois — a  territory  as  laise  as  Eng- 
land proper  and  as  ^fertile  as  Egvpt,  bordered  oy  a  great 
lake  and  a  va^t  river,  and  with  a  population  of  over 
two  million  free-bom  Americans-^would  scarcely  seem  a 
fit  subject  for  corporate  manipulation  and  control.  Yet  a 
irore  trade-ridden  commonwealih  might  not  have  been 
found  anywhere  at  this  time  within  the  entire  length  and 
breadth  of  the  universe.  Cowperwood  personally,  though 
com  :mptuous  of  the  bucolic  mass  when  regarded  as  indi- 
viduals, had  always  boen  impressed  by  this  great  com- 
munity of  his  election.  Here  had  come  Marquette  and 
Joliet,  La  Salle  and  Hennepin,  dreaming  a  way  to  the 
radfic.  Here  Lincoln  and  Douglas,  antagonist  and  pro- 
tagootst  of  slavery  argument,  had  oontciMd;  hat  \*A 

478 


WANTED-FIFTY-YEAR  FRANCHISES 

arisen  "Joe"  Sr..ith,  propagator  of  that  strange  American 
dogma  of  the  Latter-Day  Sa::its.  What  a  state*  Gnrper- 
wood  sometimes  thought ;  what  a  fizment  of  the  brain,  and 
yet  how  wonderful  I  He  had  crossed  it  often  on  hit  way  to 
St.  Louis,  to  Memphis,  to  Denver,  and  had  been  tmidied 
by  Its  venr  simplicity— the  small,  new  wooden  towns,  so 
Kd<Ment  of  American  tradition,  prejudice,  force,  and  illusion. 
The  white-steepled  church,  the  lawn-faced,  tree-diaded 
village  streets,  the  long  stretches  of  flat,  open  country  where 
corn  grew  m  semed  im  or  where  in  winter  the  snow 
bedded  lightly— it  all  reminded  him  a  little  of  his  own 
father  and  niother,  who  had  been  in  naany  respects  suited 
totuchaworidasthis.  Yet  none  thelin  did  he  hesitate  to 
press  on  the  measure  which  was  to  adjust  his  own  future,  to 
make  profitable  his  issue  of  two  hundred  million  dcdlars' 
worth  of  Union  Traction,  to  secure  him  a  fixed  place  in  the 
nnancul  ohgarchy  of  America  and  of  the  world. 

Tne  state  legislature  at  this  time  was  ruled  over  by  a 
small  group  of  wire-pulling,  pettifocgink,  coiponttion. 
controUed  mdividuals  who  came  up  from  the  respective 
ttmns,  ooimtiet,  and  cities  of  the  state,  but  who  bore  the 
Mme  relation  to  the  communities  which  they  represented 
and  to  their  superiors  and  equals  in  and  out  of  the  legis- 
lative halls  at  Springfield  that  men  do  to  such  allies  any- 
where in  any  given  field.  Why  do  we  call  them  pettifog- 
ging and  dismiss  them?  Perhaps  they  were  pettUbggi^ 
but  certamly  no  more  so  than  any  other  shrewd  hitOT 
anima!  that  burrows  its  way  onward— and  shall  we  say 
upward?  The  deepest  controlling  principle  which  am- 
mated  these  individuals  was  the  oldest  and  fint;  that  of 
se^jrese^^^^  Picture,  for  example,  a  common  occur- 
rence—that of  S«iator  John  H.  Southack,  conversing  with, 
perhaps,  Senat^jr  George  Mason  Wade,  of  Ga&adn  cSuntv! 
behind  a  legislative  door  irr  one  of  the  senate  conference 
chambers  toward  the  close  of  a  session— Senator  Southack, 
blinking,  buttonholing  his  well-dressed  coUeague  and  drawl 

n.?^J^Pr""''•  1^*^"?.^°'"  confidential,  ex- 

pectant (a  genial,  wlid,  experienced,  slightly  paunchy  but 
weU-built  senator  Wade-andhandsomi,  too) 

I  toW  you  there  would  be  some- 
thing orentnaBy  m  the  Quincy  wateiwfiont  improvement 

479 


THE  TITAN 

if  it  ever  worited  out.  Well,  here  it  it.  Ed  Tnitedale 

was  in  town  yesterday."  (This  with  a  knowins  eye,  at 
much  as  to  sav,  "Mum't  the  word.")  "Here's  live  hun- 
dred; count  it. 

A  quick  flashins  out  of  some  green  and  yellow  bills  from 
a  vest  pocket,  a  light  thumbins  and  counting  on  the  part 
of  Senator  Wade.   A  flare  of  comprehension,  appnyv^ 

gratitude,  admiration,  as  though  to  sisnify,  "This  is  some- 
ling  like."  "Thanks,  John.  I  had  pntty  near  foi]|oc 
all  aoout  it.  Nice  people,  eh  ?  If  ytm  see  Ed  again  gnrt 
him  mv  regard*.  When  thpi^^  Bdlville  contest  coam  up 
let  me  Kfww."  ..i^-  S 

Mr.  Wade,  beine  a  good  speaker,  was  frequently  in 
request  to  itir  up  the  populace  to  a  tente  of  pro  or  o^ia 
conaectioa  ^with  some  legislative  critif  hnpendbg,  aad|it 
was  to  some  such  future  opportunity  that  he  now  plei»- 
antly  referred.  O  life,  O  politics,  O  necessity.  O  hunfeiv 
O  burning  human  anwtitt  and  desire  on  evefy  Band! 

Mr.  Southack  was  an  unobtrusive,  pleasant,  quiet  mvi 
of  the  type  that  would  usually  be  patronized  as  rural 
pe€tif<wging  by  men  high  in  commercial  affairs.   He  was\ 
none  the  less  well  fitted  to  his  task,  a  capable  and  diligent  ^ 
beneficiary  and  agent.    He  was  well  dressed,  middlfr>agcd, 
— only  forty-five — cool,  courageous,  genial,  with  e]ret  mtt 
were  material,  but  not  cold  or  hard,  and  a  light,  springy, 
eneiwetic  tttp  and  manner.   A  holder  of  some  C.  W.  & 
I.  RTR.  shares,  a  director  of  one  of  his  local  county  banks, 
a  silent  partner  in  the  Effingham  Hfrald,  he  was  a  peramu^ 
in  hit  cBttrict,  om  mush  revered  by  local  twaint.  Yet  a 
more  game  and  ratcaOy  type  wat  not  to  be  Smmd  in  ^ 
rural  legislation. 

It  was  dd  General  yan  Sickle  who  sought  out  Soudiack, 
having  remembered  him  from  his  earlier  legislative  davt. 
It  was  Avery  who  conducted  the  negotiations.  Ptinuouy, 
in  all  state  Kheming  at  Springfield,  Scoatmr  Soa^ack 
was  supposed  to  represent  the  C.  W.  I.,  one  of  die  great 
trunk-lmes  traversing  the  state,  and  incidentally  onmece* 
ing  Chicago  with  the  Soudi,  Wot,  and  East.  Thii  road, 
having  a  large  local  mileage  and  being  anxious  to  extend 
ict  fnndiitet  in  Chicago  and  elsewhere,  was  deep  in  sute 
pt^tics.   By  a  cuximu  coincide,  .ce  it  waa  maiidy  fiaaicad 

480 


WANTED-FIFTY-YEAR  FRANCHISES 

W  Haeckelhdnwr,  Gotloeb  &  Co.,  of  New  York,  though 
Cowperwood't  connection  with  that  concern  was  not  at 
yet  known.  Going  to  Southack,  who  waa  the  Republican 
whip  m  the  senate,  Avery  propoaed  that  he,  in  conjunction 
with  Judge  Dickensheets  and  one  G'lson  Bickel,  counsel 
for  the  C.  W.  I.,  should  now  undertake  to  Mcuie  Mifficknt 
support  in  the  state  MBate  and  houte  for  a  a^eme  intrcH 
ducmg  the  New  York  idea  of  a  public-service  commission 
mto  U.V  govemins  machinery  of  the  state  of  Illinois. 
This  measure,  be  ft  «9C«d,  was  to  be  supplemented  by 
one  |Very  mterestinK  and  important  little  proviso  to  tm 
«e^  that  all  franchise-holdlitt  corporations  should  her^ 
by,  for  a  period  of  fifty  years  from  the  date  of  the  enact* 
ment  of  the  bill  into  law,  be  assured  of  all  their  righu, 
pnyJeges,  and  immunities — indudina  franchises,  of  course. 
This  was  justified  on  the  ground  uiat  any  such  radical 
change  as  that  involved  in  the  introduction  of  a  public- 
service  con^musioB  might  disturb  the  peace  and  well-being 
of  corporations  with  franchises  which  still  had  years  to  run. 

Senator  Southack  saw  nothing  vary  wrong  With  this  idci. 
though  he  aatnraUy  perceived  what  it  wm  aU  abcmt  ud^ 

•?v  desired  to  protect. 

Yes,  he  said,  sucanctly,  "I  see  the  lay  of  that  land, 
bitt  what  do  I  get  out  of  it  r 

••Fifty  thousand  doUaw  for  yourself  if  it's  successful, 
ten  thousand  if  it  isn't— provided  you  make  an  honest 
ettort;  two  thousand  dollars  apiece  for  any  of  the  boys 
SctoIJ^r^^  !•  that  perfectly  sati- 

••Peifectly,"  replied  Senator  SmtthacL 
S« 


CHAPTER  LV 


COWPERWOOD  AND  THE  GOVERNOR  , 

APUBLIC-service-commission  law  might,  ipso  factOy 
have  been  quietly  passed  at  this  session,  if  the  ar- 
bitrary franchise  -  extending  proviso  had  not  been  ui* 
troduced,  and  this  on  the  thin  excuse  that  so  novel  a 
change  in  the  working  scheme  of  the  state  government 
mig^t  bring  about  hardship  to  some.  This  redounded 
too  obviously  to  the  benefit  of  one  particular  corpora- 
tion. The  newspaper  men  —  as  thick  as  flies  about  the 
halls  of  the  state  capitol  at  Springfield,  and  essentially 
watchful  and  loyal  to  their  papers — were  auick  to  sense  the 
true  state  of  affairs.  Never  were  there  sucti  hawks  as  news- 
paper men.  These  wretches  (employed  by  sniveling,  mud- 
snouting  n  wspapers  of  the  opposition)  were  not  onl^  in 
the  oouncib  of  politicians,  in  tne  pay  of  rival  corporations, 
in  the  confidence  of  the  governor,  m  the  secrets  oi^  the  sena- 
tors and  local  representatives,  but  were  here  and  there  in 
one  another^s  confidence.  A  piece  of  news — a  rumor,  a 
dream,  a  fancy — ^whispered  by  Senator  Smith  to  Senator 
Jones,  or  by  Representative  £:nith  to  Representative  Jones, 
and  confided  by  him  in  turn  to  Chariie  White,  of  the 
Globe,  or  Eddie  Bums,  of  the  Democrat,  would  in  turn  be 
communicated  to  Robert  Hazlitt,  of  the  Press,  or  Harry 
Emonds,  of  the  Transcript, 

All  at  once  a  disturbing  announcement  in  one  or  other 
of  the  papers,  no  one  knowing  ^ence  it  came.  Neither 
Senator  Smith  nor  Senator  Jones  had  told  any  one.  No 
word  of  the  confidence  imposed  in  Charlie  White  or 
Eddie  Bums  had  ever  been  breadied.  But  there  you 
were — the  thing  was  in  the  papers,  the  storm  of  inquiry, 
opinion,  opposition  was  on.   No  one  knew,  no  one  was  to 

48a 


COWPERWOOD  AND  THE  GOVERNOR 

blame,  but  it  was  on,  and  the  battle  had  henceforth  to  be 
fought  in  the  open. 

Consider  also  the  governor  who  presided  at  this  time  in 
the  executive  chamber  at  Springfield.  He  was  a  strange, 
tall,  dark,  osseous  man  who,  owing  to  the  brooding,  melan- 
choly character  of  his  own  disposition,  had  a  dieckered 
and  a  somewhat  sad  career  behind  him.  Bom  in  Sweden, 
he  had  been  bfought  to  America  as  a  child,  and  allowed 
or  compelled  to  fight  his  own  way  upward  under  all  the 
^rmdmg  aspects  of  poverty.  Owing  to  an  energetic  and 
indonutable  temperament,  he  had  through  years  of  law 

Eracoce  and  public  labors  of  various  kinds  built  up  for 
imself  a  following  among  Chicago  Swedes  which  amounted 
to  adoration.    He  had  been  city  tax-collector,  city  sur- 
veyor, district  attorney,  and  for  six  or  eight  years  a  state 
arcuit  judge.   In  all  these  capadries  he  had  manifested 
a  tendency  to  do  the  right  as  he  saw  it  and  play  fair- 
qualities  which  endeared  him  to  the  idealisric.  Honest, 
and  with  a  hopeless  brooding  sympathy  for  the  miseries  of 
the  poor,  he  had  as  circuit  judge,  and  also  as  district 
attorney,  rendered  various  decisions  which  had  made  him 
very  unpopular  with  the  rich  and  powerful— decisions  in 
damage  cases,  fraud  cases,  railroad  claim  cases,  where  the 
aty  or  the  state  was  seeking  to  oust  various  powerful  rail- 
way corporations  from  possession  of  property— yards, 
water-frontages,  and  the  hke,  to  which  they  had  no  just 
•laim.    At  the  same  rime  the  populace,  reading  the  news 
Items  of  his  doings  and  hearing  him  speak  on  various  and 
sundry  occasions,  conceived  a  great  fancy  for  him.  He 
was  pnmanly  soft-hearted,  sweet-minded,  fiery,  a  brilliant 
orator,  a  dynamic  presence.    In  addition  he  was  woman- 
hungry— a  phase  which  homely,  sex-starved  intellectuals  the 
world  over  will  understand,  to  the  shame  of  a  lying  age,  that 
because  of  quixotic  dogma  belies  its  greatest  desire,  its 
greatest  sorrow,  its  greatest  joy.   All  these  factors  turned 
an  ultra-conservative  element  in  the  community  against 
hTh^^At  considered  dangerous.    At  the  same  rime 

he  had  by  careful  economy  and  investment  built  up  a  faii^ 
sized  fortune    Recently,  however,  owing  to  the  <j»ze  for 

ifcf  IS  *****  P**?**  "l"'^**  °f  ^'^  holdings  in  a  som^ 
^at  poorly  comtnicted  and  therefore  unprofitable  office 

483 


THE  TITAN 


building.  Because  of  this  error  financial  wreck  was 
threatening  him.  Even  now  he  was  knocking  at  the  doors 
of  large  bonding  companies  for  assistance. 

This  man,  in  company  with  the  antagonistic  financial 
element  and  the  newspapers,  constituted,  as  regard" 
Cowperwood's  public  -  service  -  commission  scheme,  a 
triumvirate  of  difficulties  not  easy  to  overcome.  The 
newspapers,  in  due  time,  catching  wind  of  the  true  pur- 
port of  the  plan,  ran  screaming  to  their  readers  with 
the  horrible  intelligence.  In  the  offices  of  Schryhart, 
Ameel,  Hand,  and  Merrill,  as  well  as  in  other  centers  of 
finance,  there  was  considerable  puzzling  over  the  sittiation, 
and  then  a  shrewd,  intelligent  deduction  was  made. 

"Do  you  see  what  he's  up  to,  Hosmer?"  inquired  Sc^rjr- 
hart  of  Hand.  "  He  sees  that  we  have  him  scotdied  hele  in 
Chicago.  As  things  stand  now  he  can't  go  into  the  city 
councd  and  ask  for  a  franchise  for  more  than  twenty  yeap 
under  the  state  law,  and  he  can't  do  that  for  three  or  foiir 
years  yet,  anyhow.  His  franchises  don't  expire  soon 
4|iough.  He  knows  that  by  the  time  they  do  expire  we 
will  have  public  saitiment  aroused  to  such  a  point  that  no 
council,  however  crooked  it  may  be,  will  dare  to  give  him 
what  he  asks  unless  he  is  willing  to  make  a  heavy  return 
to  the  city.  If  he  does  that  it  will  end  his  scheme  of  selling 
any  two  hundred  million  dollars  of  Union  Traction  at  six 
per  cent.  The  market  won't  back  him  up.  He  can't  pay 
twenty  per  cent,  to  the  city  and  give  universal  transfers 
and  pay  six  per  cent,  on  two  hundred  million  dollars,  and 
everybody  knows  'x.  He  has  a  fine  scheme  of  making  a  co3l 
hundred  million  out  of  this.  Well,  he  can't  do  it.  We 
must  get  the  newspapers  to  hammer  this  legislative  scheme 
of  his  to  death.  When  he  comes  into  the  local  council  he 
must  pay  twenty  or  thirty  per  cent,  of  the  gross  receipts  of 
his  roads  to  the  city.  He  must  give  free  transfers  from 
every  one  of  his  lines  to  every  other  one.  Then  we  have  hira. 
I  dislike  to  see  socialistic  ideas  fostered,  but  it  can't  be 
helped.  We  have  to  do  it.  If  we  ever  get  him  out  of  here 
we  can  hush  up  the  newspapers,  and  tat  public  wUI  fof|et 
about  it;  at  least  we  can  hope  so." 

In  the  mean  time  the  governor  had  heard  the  whisper  of 

boodle"— a  word  of  die  day  expressive  of  a  corropc 

484 


COWPERWOOD  AND  THE  GOVERNOR 


legislative  fund.  Not  at  all  a  small-minded  man,  nor  in- 
volved in  the  financial  campaign  being  waged  against 
Cowperwood,  nor  inclined  to  be  influenced  mentally  or 
emotionally  by  superheated  charges  against  the  latter,  he 
nevertheless  speculated  deeply.  In  a  vague  way  he  tensed 
the  dreams  of  Cowperwood.  The  charge  of  seducing  women 
so  frequently  made  against  the  street-railway  magnate,  so 
shocking  to  the  yoked  conventionalists,  did  not  disturb  him 
at  all.  Back  of  the  onward  sweep  of  the  generations  he 
himself  sensed  the  mystic  Aphrodite  and  her  magic.  He 
realized  that  Cowperwood  had  traveled  fast — ^that  he  was 
pressing  to  the  utmost  a  great  advantage  in  the  face  of 
great  obstacles.  At  the  same  time  helnew  that  the  present 
street-car  service  of  Chicago  was  by  no  means  bad.  Would 
he  be  proving  unfaith'"jl  to  the  trust  imposed  on  him  by 
the  great  electorate  of  Illinois  if  he  were  to  advantage 
Cowperwood's  cause.?  Must  he  not  rather  in  the  sight  of 
all  men  smoke  out  the  animating  causes  here — greed,  over- 
weening ambition,  colossal  self-interest  as  opposed  to  the 
selflessness  of  a  Christian  ideal  and  of  a  democratic  the^ 
of  government? 

Life  rises  to  a  high  plane  of  the  dramatic,  and  hence  of 
the  artistic,  whenever  and  wherever  in  the  conflict  regard- 
ing material  posMssion  there  enters  a  conception  of  the 
ideal.  It  was  this  that  lit  forever  the  beacon  fires  of  Troy, 
that  thundered  eternally  in  the  horses'  hoofs  at  Arbela 
and  in  the  guns  at  Waterloo.  Ideals  were  here  at  stake— 
the  dreams  of  one  man  as  opposed  perhaps  to  the  ultimate 
dreams  of  a  city  or  state  or  nation — the  grovelings  and 
waljowingt  of  a  democracy  slowly,  blindly  trying  to  stagger 
to  its  feet.  In  this  conflict — taking  place  in  an  inland 
cottage-dotted  state  where  men  were  clowns  and  churls, 
dancing  fiddlers  at  country  fairs  -were  opposed,  as  the 
governor  saw  it,  the  ideals  of  one  man  and  the  ideals  of  men. 

Governor  Swanson  decided  after  mature  deliberation  to 
veto  the  bill.  Cowperwood,  debonair  as  ever,  faithful  at 
ever  to  his  logic  and  his  conception  of  individuality,  was 
determined  that  no  stcme  should  be  left  unturned  that 
would  permit  him  to  triumph,  that  would  carry  him 
finally  to  the  gorgeous  throne  of  his  own  constructi(m. 
Havn^  firtt  w^mwied  die  matter  diroi^  the  legislature 


THE  TITAN 


by  a  tortuous  process,  Sred  upon  at  every  step  by  the  press, 
he  next  sent  various  ir  dividuals — state  legislators,  represen- 
tatives of  the  C.  W.  &  I.,  members  of  outside  corporations 
to  see  the  governor,  but  Swanson  was  adamant.  He  did 
not  see  how  he  could  conadentiouslv  sanction  the  bill. 
Finally,  one  dav,  as  he  was  seated  in  his  Chicago  business 
office— ja  fateful  chamber  located  in  the  troublesome  build- 
ing which  was  subsequently  to  wreck  his  fortune  and  which 
was  the  raison  d'etre  of  a  present  period  of  care  and  de- 

Rression — enter  the  smug,  comfortable  presence  of  Judge 
Tahum  Dickensheets,  at  present  senior  counsel  of  the 
North  Chicago  Street  Railwav.  He  was  a  very  mountain 
of  a  man  ph]nHcaIIy^--8mooth-faced,  agreeably  clothed,  hard 
and  yet  ingratiating  of  eye,  a  thinker,  a  reasoner.  Swanson 
knew  much  of  him  by  reputadon  and  otherwise,  althoqgh 
personally  they  were  no  more  than  speaking  acquaintance. 

"How  are  you.  Governor?  I'm  glad  to  see  you  again. 
I  heard  vou  were  back  in  Chicaeo.  I  see  by  the  morning 
papers  tnat  you  have  that  Southack  public-service  bill  up^ 
before  you.  I  thought  I  would  come  over  and  have  a  few 
words  with  you  about  it  if  you  have  no  objection.  I've 
been  trying  to  get  down  to  Springfield  for  the  last  three 
weeks  to  have  a  little  chat  with  you  before  you  reached  a 
conclusion  one  way  or  the  other.  Do  vou  mind  if  I  inquire 
whether  you  have  decided  to  veto  it?" 

The  ex-iudee,  faintly  ^  rfumed,  clean  and  agreeable, 
carried  in  his  hand  a  large-sized  black  hand-satchel  which 
he  put  down  beside  him  on  the  floor. 

'  Yes,  Judge,"  replied  Swanson,  "I've  practically  decided 
to  veto  it.  1  can  see  no  practical  reason  for  iupp(»tti^{  it. 
As  I  look  at  it  now,  it's  specious  and  spedid,  not  puttcil- 
larly  called  for  or  necessary  at  this  time." 

The  governor  talked  mtk  a  d^t  Swedish  accent,  in^ 
lectual,  individual. 

A  long,  placid,  philosophic  discussion  of  all  the  pros  and 
cons  of  the  situation  followed.  The  goveniOT  wat  tired, 
distrait,  but  ready  to  listen  in  a  tolerant  way  to  more  ai^u- 
ment  along  a  line  with  which  he  was  already  fully  famihar. 
He  knew,  of  course,  that  Dickensheets  wat  ooaaim  §0K  the 
North  Chicago  Street  Railway  Company. 
"I'm  very  glad  to  have  heard  what  you  have  to  say, 

486 


COWPERWOOD  AND  THE  GOVERNOR 


Judge,"  finally  commented  the  governor.  I  don't  want 
you  to  think  1  haven't  given  this  matter  serious  thought — 
I  have.  I  know  most  of  the  things  that  have  been  done 
down  at  Springfield.  Mr.  Cowperwood  is  an  able  man;  I 
don't  charge  any  more  against  him  than  I  do  against  twenty 
other  agencies  ihat  are  operating  down  there  at  this  very 
moment.  I  know  what  his  difficulties  are.  I  can  hardly 
be  accused  <^  83rmpathiztn(|  with  his  enemkss,  for  they  cer- 
tainly do  not  sympathize  with  me.  I  am  not  even  listening 
to  the  newspapers.  This  is  a  matter  of  faith  in  democracy 
— a  difference  in  ideals  between  myself  and  many  other 
men.  I  haven't  vetoed  the  bill  I  don't  say  that  some- 
thing may  mft  arise  to  make  me  sign  it.  My  present  in- 
tention, unless  I  hear  something  much  more  favorable  m 
its  behalf  than  I  have  already  heard,  is  to  veto  it." 

"Governor,"  said  Dtckensheets,  rising,  "let  me  diank 
you  for  your  courtesy.  I  would  be  the  last  person  in  the 
world  to  wish  to  influence  you  outside  the  line  of  your 
private  convictions  and  your  personal  sense  of  fair  ^ay. 
At  the  same  time  I  have  tried  to  make  plain  to  you  how 
essential  ic  is,  how  only  fair  and  risht,  that  this  local 
street-railway-franchise  buriness  should  be  removed  out 
of  the  realm  of  sentiment,  emotion,  public  passion,  envy, 
buncombe,  and  all  the  other  influences  that  are  at  work  to 
frustrate  and  make  difficult  the  work  of  Mr.  Cowperwood. 
All  envy,  I  tell  you.  His  enemies  are  willii^  to  sacrifice 
every  principle  of  iusrice  and  fair  play  to  see  him  eliminated. 
That  sums  it  up.' 

"That  mzy  all  be  true,"  replied  Swanson.  "Just  the 
same,  there  is  another  principle  inv<c4ved  here  wnidi  you 
do  not  seem  to  see  or  do  not  care  to  consider — ^the  right  of 
the  people  under  the  state  constitution  to  a  considerarion, 
a  revaluation,  of  that  contracts  at  the  time  and  in  the 
manner  agreed  upon  under  the  original  franchise.  What 
you  propose  is  sumptuary  legislation;  it  makes  null  and 
void  an  agreenoent  betWiiea  the  people  and  the  street- 
railway  companies  at  a  rime  when  the  people  have  a  ri^ht 
to  expect  a  lull  and  free  consideration  of  this  matter  aside 
from  state  legislative  influence  .  nd  control.  To  pMStt^ 
the  state  l^slature,  h^r  inf '*encc  or  by  any  o*htT  means, 
to  step  in  at  tMi  tim'      ,  iaMT*  re  is  unfair.    !  he  proposi- 

4»f 


THE  TITAN 

tions  involved  in  those  bills  should  be  referred  to  the  peo- 
ple at  the  next  election  for  approval  or  not,  just  as  they  see 
fit.  That  is  the  way  this  matter  should  be  arranged.  It 
will  not  do  to  come  into  the  legislature  and  influence  or 
buy  votes,  and  then  expect  me  to  write  my  Mgnattife  under 
the  whole  matter  as  satisfactory."      ,    .  „ 

Swanson  was  not  heated  or  antipatheuc.   He  was  cool, 
firm,  well-intenti<med. 

Dickensheets  passed  his  hand  over  a  wide,  high  tipple. 
He  seemed  to  be  meditating  something  —  some  hitherto 
untried  stateiwent  or  course  of  action. 

"Well,  Governor,"  be  repeated,  "I  want  to  thank  you, 
anyhow.  You  have  been  exceedingly  kind.  By  ^wzy, 
I  see  you  ha»e  a  large,  roomy  safe  here."  He  had  picked 
up  the  bag  he  was  carrying.  "I  wonder  if  1 -might  leave 
this  here  for  a  day  or  two  m  your  care?  It  amtains  some 
papers  that  I  do  not  wish  to  carry  into  the  country  with  me. 
Would  you  mind  locking  it  up  in  your  safe  and  letting  me 
have  it  when  I  tend  htkf* 

"With  pleasure,"  replied  the  governor. 

He  took  it,  placed  it  in  lower  storage  space,  and  closed 
and  locked  the  door.  The  two  men  parted  with  a  genial  \ 
hand-shake.    The  governor  returned  to  hk  meditations,  j 
the  judge  hurried  to  catch  a  car. 

About  eleven  o'clock  the  next  morning  Swanson  was 
still  working  in  his  office,  worrying  greatly  over  some  method 
whereby  he  could  raise  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  to 
defray  interest  charges,  repairs,  and  other  payments,  on  a 
structure  that  was  by  no  means  meednji  expenses  and  was 
hence  a  drain.  At  this  juncture  his  oflace  door  opened,  and 
his  very  youthful  office-boy  presented  him  the  card  of 
F.  A.  Cowperwood.  The  governor  had  never  seen  him  be- 
fore. Cowperwood  enterM  brisk,  fredi,  forceful  He  was 
as  crisp  9M  a  new  ddlar  biU— at  dean»  Aaif,  nnmy 
limned. 

"Governor  Swanson,  I  believer 

"Yes,  sir."  j  r    •  , 

The  two  were  scrutinizing  each  other  defensively. 
"I  am  Mr.  Cowperwood.    I  come  to  have  a  very  few 
words  with  you.    I  will  take  very  little  of  your  time.  I 
do  not  wish  to  go  over  any  of  the  arguments  that  have 

488 


COWPERWOOD  AND  THE  GOVERNOR 

been  gone  over  before.  I  am  satisfied  that  you  know  all 
ab(Mit  them." 

"Yes,  I  had  a  talk  with  Judge  Dickensheets  yesterday." 

"Just  so,  Governor.  Knowing  all  that  you  do,  permit 
me  to  put  one  more  matter  before  you.  I  know  that  you 
are,  comparatively,  a  poor  man — ^that  every  dollar  you  have 
is  at  present  practically  tied  in  this  building.  I  know  of 
two  places  where  you  have  applied  for  a  loan  of  (me  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars  and  have  been  refused  because  you 
haven't  sufficient  security  to  offer  outside  of  this  buildmg, 
which  is  mortgaged  up  to  its  limit  as  it  stands.  The  men, 
as  you  must  know,  who  are  fi(^ituutyou  are  fidituig  me. 
I  am  a  scoundrel  becauie  I  am  seinim«4»d  aniDtticnn — a 
materialist.  You  are  not  a  scoundrel,  but  a  dangerous  per- 
son  because  you  are  an  idealist.  Whether  you  veto  this  bill 
or  not,  you  will  never  again  be  elected  Govetnor  <tf  liUnmc 
if  the  people  who  are  fightiiig  me  aucceed,  aaVriiey  will 
succeed,  in  fiehting  you.  \ 

Swanson't  dark  eyes  burned  fllummatnrdy.  He  nodded 
his  head  in  assent. 

"Governor,  I  have  come  here  this  morning  to  bribe  you, 
if  I  can.  I  do  not  agree  with  your  ideals;  in  the  liMt 
analysis  I  do  not  believe  that  they  will  work.  I  am  sure 
I  do  not  believe  in  most  of  the  thmgs  that  you  believe  in. 
Life  is  different  at  bottom  perhaps  from  what  either  you  or 
I  may  think.  Just  the  same,  as  compared  with  other  men, 
I  sympathize  with  you.  I  will  loan  vou  that  cme  hundred 
thousand  dollars  and  two  or  three  or  four  hundred  thousand 
dollars  more  besides  if  you  wish.  You  need  never  pay  me  a 
dollar— or  you  can  if  you  wish.  Suit  yourMlf.  In  that 
black  bag  which  Judge  Dickensheets  brought  here  yester- 
day, and  which  is  in  your  safe,  is  three  hundred  thousand 
dollars  in  cash.  He  did  not  have  the  courage  to  mention 
it.  Sign  the  bill  and  let  me  beat  the  men  who  are  trjring 
to  beat  me.  I  will  support  you  in  the  future  with  any 
amount  of  money  or  influence  that  I  can  bring  to  bear  in 
any  political  contest  you  may  choose  to  oittr,  ttate  or 
national." 

Cowperwood's  eyes  glowed  like  a  large,  genial  collie's. 
There  was  a  suggestion  of  sympathetic  appeal  in  them, 
nch  and  deep,  and,  evoa  naore  dian  that,  a  philosophic  pei^ 

489 


^^flW'"' 


THE  TITAN 

ception  of  me^Fable  things.  Swanspn  arose.  "You  really 
don't  mean  to  say  that  you  are  trying  to  bnbe  me  open  y, 
do  you?"  he  inquired.  In  spite  of  a  conventional  impulse 
to  burst  forth  in  moralistic  denunciation,  solemnly  phrased, 
he  was  compelled  for  the  moment  to  see  the  other  man  i 
viewpoint.  They  were  working  in  different  direcoom,  p>" 
ing  different  ways,  to  what  ultimate  end  f 
^'Mr.  Cowperwood,**  continued  the  governor,  his  face 
a  physiognomy  out  of  Goya,  his  eye  alight  with  a  kind  of 
understanding  sympathy,  "I  suppose  I  ought  to  resent 
this,  but  I  can't.  1  fee  your  point  of  view.  I  m  jorry, 
but  I  can't  help  you  nor  myself.  My  political  beheLnqr 
ideals,  compel  me  to  veto  this  bill;  when  1  forsake  tfcese 
I  am  done  politically  with  myself.  I  may  not  be  elected 
governor  again,  but  that  docs  not  matter,  either.  1  could 
use  your  money,  but  I  won't.   I  shall  have  to  bid  you  good 

™He*^oved  toward  the  safe,  slowly,  opened  it,  took  out 
the  bag  and  brought  it  over. 

"You  must  take  that  with  you,   he  added. 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other  a  moment  curiously, 
sadly— the  one  with  a  burden  of  financial,  political,  and  , 
moral  worry  on  his  spirit,  the  other  with  an  unconquer- 
able determination  not  to  be  worsted  even  m  defeat. 

"Governor,"  concluded  Cowperwood,  in  the  most  genial, 
contented,  undisturbed  voice,  "you  will  live  to  see 
legislature  pass  and  another  governor  sign  seme  such  bin. 
It  will  not  l>e  done  this  session,  apparently,  but  it  will  be 
done.  I  am  not  through,  because  my  case  is  right  and 
fair.  Just  the  same,  after  you  have  vetoed  the  biU,  come 
and  see  me,  and  I  will  loan  you  that  one  hundred  thounnd 

if  you  want  it."  .  .„    ,  . 

Cowperwood  went  out.  Swanson  vetoed  the  bill,  it  is 
on  record  that  subsequently  he  borrowed  one  hundred 
thousand  doUara  from  Cowperwood  to  stay  him  from  rum. 


CHAPTER  LVI 


THB  («DBAL  OT  BlftimCI 

AT  the  news  that  Swanton  had  reftised  to  sign  the  bill 
and  that  the  legislature  lacked  sufficient  courage  to 
pais  it  over  his  veto  both  Schryhart  and  Hand  Uterally 
rubbed  their  hands  in  com^'-^rtable  satisfaction. 

"Well,  Hosmer,"  said  ^  'hart  the  next  day,  when  they 
niet  at  their  favorite  du  i  Union  League — ^"it  looks 
as  though  we  were  making  some  little  progress,  after  all, 
doesn't  It  ?  Our  friend  didn't  succeed  in  turning  that  little 
trick,  did  he?" 

He  beamed  ahnost  ecstatically  upon  his  solid  cdKK 
panion. 

"Not  diis  time.  I  wonder  vthzt  move  he  will  decide  to 
1  make  next." 

"I  don't  see  very  well  what  it  can  be.  He  knows  now 
*h2t  he  cant  get  his  franchises  without  a  cmnpromise 
Ir*^'  »nto  bis  profits,  and  if  that  happens  he  can't 
sell  his  Union  Traction  stock.  This  legislative  scheme  of 
his  n-  'st  have  cost  him  all  of  three  hundred  thousand  dot- 
lare,  and  what  has  he  to  show  for  it?  The  new  legislature, 
unless  I  m  greatly  mistaken,  will  be  afraid  to  touch  any- 
thme  \n  connection  vdth  him.  It's  hardly  likely  that  any 
of  the  Springfield  politicians  will  want  to  draw  the  fire  of 
the  newspapers  again." 

Schnrhart  felt  very  powerful,  imposing— deek,  indeed — 
now  that  his  theory  ot  newspaper  publicity  as  a  cure  was 
apparently  beginnmg  to  work.  Hand,  more  saturnine, 
nriore  responsive  to  the  uncertainty  of  things  mundane— the 
shifty  undercurrents  that  are  perpetually  sapping  and 
nuning  below  was  agreeable,  but  not  sure.   Perhaps  so. 

In  regard  to  his  Eastern  life  during  this  interiude,  Cowper> 

491 


THE  TITAN 

» 

wood  had  been  becoming  more  and  more  keenly  alive  to  the 
futility  of  die  attempt  to  effect  a  aodal  rescue  for  Aiken. 

"What  was  the  user"  he  often  asked  himself,  as  he  con- 
templated her  movements,  thoughts,  plans,  as  contrasted 
witK  die  natural  efficiency,  taste,  grace,  and  subtlety  of 
a  woman  like  Berenice.  He  felt  that  the  latter  could,  if  she 
would,  smooth  over  in  an  adroit  way  all  the  silly  social  an- 
tagonisms which  were  now  afflicting  him.  It  was  a  woman's 
|ame,  he  frequently  told  himself,  and  would  QfVtf  be  ad* 
justed  till  he  had  the  woman. 

Simultaneously  Aileen,  looking  at  the  situation  fnnn  her 
own  point  of  view  and  nonplussed  by  the  ineffectiveness  of 
mere  wealth  whtn  not  combined  with  a  certain  social 
somethins  which  she  did  not  appear  to  have,  was,  neverthe- 
less, uncling  to  surrender  her  dream.  What  was  it,  ^ 
asked  herself  over  and  over,  that  made  this  great  d^erenie 
between  women  and  women?  The  question  contained  its 
own  answer,  but  she  did  not  know  that.  She  was  stili 
good-looking — very — and  an  adept  in  self-omamentadon^ 
after  her  manner  and  taste.  So  great  had  been  the  news- 
paper palaver  regarding  the  arrival  of  a  new  multimillion- 
aire  frmn  ^  West  and  the  palace  he  was  erecting  that 
even  tradesmen,  clerks,  and  nail-boys  knew  of  her.  Al- 
most invariably,  when  called  upon  to  state  her  name  in  . 
such  quarters,  she  was  greeted  oy  a  slight  start  <^  leoof*  \ 
nition,  a  swift  glance  of  examination,  wnispers,  even  open 
comment.  That  was  something.  Yet  how  much  more, 
and  how  different  were  those  rarefied  reaches  <^  social 
supremacy  to  which  popular  repute  bears  scarcely  any 
relationship  at  all.  How  diflPerent,  indeed?  From  what 
Cowperwood  had  said  in  Chicago  she  had  fancied  that 
when  tney  took  up  their  formal  abode  in  New  York  he 
would  make  an  attempt  to  straighten  out  his  life  som^ 
what,  to  modify  th  number  of  his  indifferent  amours  and 
to  present  an  illusion  of  solidarity  and  unity.  Yet,  now 
that  they  had  actuall}^  arrived,  she  ncidced  that  he  was 
more  concerned  with  his  heightened  political  and  financial 
complications  in  Illinois  and  with  his  artjK»llection  than  he 
was  with  what  might  happen  to  be  goii^  on  in  the  new 
home  or  what  could  be  made  to  happen  there.  As  in  the 
days  of  old,  she  was  constantly  puzzled  by  his  persistent 

49* 


THE  ORDEAL  OF  BERENICE 

evenings  out  and  hit  sudden  appearances  and  disappear- 
ances.  Yet,  determine  as  she  might,  rage  iccrady  or  open- 
ly as  she  would,  she  could  not  cure  herself  of  the  infection 
of  Cowperwood,  the  lure  that  surrounded  and  substantiated 
a  mind  and  spirit  far  greater  dmn  any  other      had  cwr 
known.  Neither  honor,  virtue,  consistent  charity,  nor  sytw 
pathy  was  there,  but  only  a  gay,  foamy,  unterrified  suf- 
ficiency and  a  creative,  constructive  sense  of  beauty  that, 
Itke  sunlit  spray,  glowing  with  all  the  irradiative  glories  of  the 
mornmg,  danced  and  fled,  spun  driftwise  over  a  heavy  sea 
of  circumstance.   Life,  however  dark  and  somber,  could 
never  apparently  cloud  hit  soul.    Brocding  and  idling  in  the 
wonder  palace  of  hit  conttruction,  Aileen  could  see  what  he 
^«  /         , ^''^^"^  fountain  in  the  court  of  orchids,  the 
peach-hke  glow  of  the  pink  marble  chamber,  with  its  birds 
and  Bowers,  the  serried  briltiaace  of  hit  amazing  art-col- 
lections  were  aH  like  him,  were  really  the  color  of  his  soul, 
io  think  that  after  all  she  was  not  the  <»e  to  binwiii.-  >  to 
subjection,  to  hold  him  by  golden  yet  tteehr  thi^idt  of 
fancy  to  ti.e  hi  m  of  her  garment!  To  think  that  he  should 
no  Ioniser  walk,  a  slave  of  his  desire,  behind  the  chariot  of. 
her  spiritual  and  physical  tuperiority.  Yet  the  could  not  \ 
give  up.^ 

thit  rime  Cowperwood  had  managed  through  infini  - 
tact  and  a  stoic  disregard  of  hit  own  ache*  and  paint  to 
re-estabhsh  at  least  a  temporary  working  arrangement  with 
the  Carter  household.   To  Mrs.  Caiter  he  was  still  a 
Heaven-sent  son  of  light.  Actually  in  a  mournful  way  she 
pleaded  for  C  ^rwood,  vouching  for  his  disinterestedness 
and  kmg-tttndtng  goierosity.   Berenice,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  swept  between  her  craving  for  a  great  state  for  herself 
—luxury,  power--and  her  desire  to  conform  to  the  current 
ethics  and  morals  of  life.   Cowperwood  was  married,  and 
becaute  of  his  attitude  of  affection  for  her  his  money 
was  tamted.   She  had  long  speculated  on  his  rebrion  to 
Aileen,  the  basis  of  their  differences,  had  often  wondered 
why  neither  she  nor  her  r  ^ther  had  ever  been  introduced. 
What  type  of  woman  was  the  second  Mrs.  Cowperwood? 
Beyond  generalities  Cowperwood  had  never  mendoned  her. 
Beremce  actually  thou^fit  to  seek  her  out  in  some  incZ- 
tpicuout  way,  but,  at  It  chanced,       night  her  cuS 

• 


THE  TITAN 

wit  rewarded  without  effort.  She  was  at  *^he  opera  with 
ftiendt,  and  her  etcore  nudfed  her  arm.  ... 

"Have  you  noticed  BoK  9— the  bdy  in  whitt  Mttn  wich 
the  veen  lace  shawl?" 

"Yn."  Beraike  raited  her  gUases. 

"Mn,  Frank  Algernon  O)wperwood,  the  wife  of  the 
Chicago  millionaire.  They  have  just  built  that  house  at 
68th  Street.   He  hat  part  kate  of  number  9,  I  believe. 

Berenice  almost  started,  but  retained  her  compoture, 
nving  merely  an  indifferent  glance.  A  little  while  after, 
2be  adjusted  ner  glasses  carefully  and  studied  Mrs.  Cowper- 
WDod.  She  noted  curiously  that  Aileen's  hair  was  •ome- 
ifHiat  the  color  of  her  ovm — a  more  carroty  red.  iShe 
studied  her  eyes,  which  were  slightly  ringed,  her  smooth 
cheeks  and  full  mour*",  thickened  somewhat  by  drinkng 
and  dissipation.  Aileen  wat  good-looking,  she  thou|*0- 
handsome  in  a  material  way,  though  so  much  older  than 
henelfl  Was  it  merely  age  that  was  alienatine  Cowper- 
wood,  o.-  was  it  tome  deep-seated  intellectual  difference 
Obviously  Mrs,  Cowperwood  was  well  over  forty— a  fart 
which  did  not  give  Berenice  any  sense  of  satisfaction  or  oR 
advantage.  really  did  not  care  enoi^.  It  did  occur 
to  her,  however,  that  this  woman  whom  she  was  observing 
had  probably  given  the  best  years  of  her  life  to  Cowperwood 
— the  brilliant  yeart  her  girlhood.  And  now  he  was  tired 
of  her!  There  were  small  carefully  powdered  lines  at  the 
tails  of  Aileen's  eyes  and  at  the  comers  of  her  mouth.  At 
dbe  same  time  she  seemed  pretematurally  gay,  kittenish, 
spoiled.  With  her  were  two  men — one  a  well-known  actor, 
smisterly  handsome,  a  man  with  a  brut?l,  unclean  reputa- 
tion, the  other  a  young  social  pretender — both  unknown  to 
Berenice.  Her  knowledge  was  to  come  from  her  escort^ 
loquacious  youth,  more  or  less  versed,  as  it  happened,  in  aie 
gay  life  of  the  citv.  .  „ 

"I  hear  that  she  is  creating  quite  a  stir  in  Bohemia, 
he  observed.   "If  she  expects  to  enter  todety  it*t  a  poor 
way  to  begin,  don't  you  think?" 
"Do  you  know  that  she  expects  to?" 
"An  die  usual  signs  are  out— a  boat,  here,  a  haam.  on  Tom 
Avenue. 

This  study  of  Aileen  pusded  and  disturbed  Berenice  a 

494 


THE  ORDEAL  OP  BERENICE 

little.  Neverthdcsi,  the  felt  inuneiuely  superior.  Her 
soul  seemed  to  soar  over  the  plain  Aiken  inhabited.  The 
type  of  the  latter^l  escoru  tuttested  error— a  lack  of  social 
dtsenmniatKNi.  Because  of  die  high  position  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  achieving  Cowpcrwcxxl  was  entitled,  no  doubt, 
to  be  dissatisfied.  His  wire  had  not  Itept  pace  with  him,  or, 
rather,  had  not  eluded  him  in  hit  onwanl  flight — had  not 
run  swiftly  before,  like  a  winged  victory.  Berenice  re- 
flected that  if  she  were  dealing  with  such  a  man  he  tbould 
never  know  her  truly— lie  thould  be  made  to  wonder  and 
to  doubt.  Lines  of  care  and  disappointment  should  never 
mar  her  face.  She  would  scheme  and  dream  and  conceal 
and  evade.   He  should  dance  attendaao^ivlMtirer  lie  wat. 

I^|evertheless,  here  she  herself  was,  at  twenty-two, 
UMfkamed,  her  background  insecure,  the  very  ground  on 
which  she  walked  treacherous.  Braxmar  knew,  and  Bealet 
Cbadsey,  and  Cowpetwood.  At  least  three  or  four  of  her 
acmiamtances  mutt  have  been  at  the  Waldorf  on  that  fatal 
night.  How  long  would  it  be  before  others  became  zmnf 
Jshe  tned  eluding  her  mother,  Cowperwood,  and  the  sffua- 
t.cn  geneiaiiy  by  freely  ac  reptine  more  extended  invitations 
and  by  trying  to  see  whether  there  was  not  some  opening 
for  her  in  the  field  of  art.  She  thoi^t  of  painting  and 
essayed  several  canvatet  which  the  took  to  dealert7  The 
work  was  subtle,  remote,  fanciful— a  snow  scene  with  purple 
edges,  a  thinking  satyr,  iron-like  in  his  heaviness,  brooding 
ov*;.  a  cloudy  valley;  a  lurking  devil  peering  at  a  praving 
Marguerite;  a  Dutch  interior  inspired  by  Mrs.  Batjer, 
and  various  dancing  figures.  Phlegmatic  dealers  of  som- 
ber mien  admitted  some  piomite,  but  pointed  out  the 
dithculty  of  sales.  Beginners  were  numerous.  Art  was 
u"^*      CL  °^  course.  ...  Let  them  see  other 

things.   She  turned  her  thoughts  to  dancing. 

1  his  art  in  its  interpretative  sente  was  just  being  intro- 
duced into  America,  a  certain  Althea  Baker  having  created 
^/T  1-  ^  "'^  society  by  this  means.  With  the  idea 
ot  duplicating  or  surpassing  the  succett  of  this  woman 
rfi^T?^  ^nceived  a  dance  scries  of  her  own.  One  was  to 
De  Ihe  Terror"— a  nymph  dancing  in  the  spring  woods, 
out  eventually  pursued  and  terrorized  by  a  faun;  another, 
ine  Peacock,"  a  fintaqr  i&utradve  of  pioud  tdi^ 

491 


THE  TITAN 

adulation;  another,  "The  Vestal."  a  study  f«>« 
Soric  worship.  After  ipeiiding  considerable  time  at 
Pocono  evolving  costumes,  poses,  and  the  like,  Berenice 
fiMlly  hinted  at  the  plan  to  Mrs.  Batier,  declanng  that  she 
I^Sjoythe  artistic  outlet  it  would  afford,  and  mdicat- 
the  same  time  that  it  might  provide  the  necessary 
solution  of  a  problem  of  ways  and  means. 

ttt-wn        n  ......  »illrr'  mmm(>nfed 


and  uu  jru«»  B  — .   „ 

certain  amount  of  attention  that  way.  ,j  . 

"Because  of  hubbyf  How^  droUl   Whom  woul^  you 
suggest  that  I  marry  at  once?"  ,  « ,     «  - 

^'Oh,  when  it  comes  to  that-"  replied  Mrs.  Batjer,  with 
a  slight  reproachful  lift  in  her  voice,  and  thinking  of  Kiliaer 
Duclma.  '"But  surely  your  need  isn't  so  pressing.  If  you 
were  to  take  up  professional  dancing  I  might  have  to  ciit 
you  afterward— particularly  if  any  one  else  did.  ^ 
She  smiled  the  swectett,  most  sensible  smile.  Mrs. 
Batjer  accompanied  her  suggestions  nearly  ^dways  with  * 
sU^t  sniff  and  cough.  Berenice  could  see  that  the  mert 
faS  of  this  conversation  made  a  shght  difference.  In  Mrs. 
Batier's  world  poverty  was  a  dangerous  topic.  1  he  mere 
odor  of  it  suggested  a  kind  of  horroi— perhaps  the  equivalent 
oferrororim.  Others  Berenice  now  •un****!*  ^rowW 
affright  even  more  swiftly.  . 

Subsequent  to  this,  however,  she  made  one  shght  m- 
vesttcation  of  those  realms  that  govern  professional 
theatrical  engagements.  It  was  a  most  d»sturbii««pen- 
ence.  The  mere  color  and  odor  of  the  stuffy  offices,  the 
gauche,  material  attendants,  the  impossible  aspirants  and 
bartidpants  in  this  make-beheve  world!  The  crudenew! 
The  effrontery!  The  materiaUtyl  The  sensuality  I  It 
came  to  her  as  a  sickening  breath  and  for  the  mommt 
frishtened  her.  What  would  become  of  refinement  therer 
What  of  deUcacyf  How  could  one  nse  and  sustain  an 
indtvtdual  dignity  and  control  m  such  a  world  as  thisf 

Cowperwood  was  now  suggesting  as  a  binding  hnk  tnac 
be  should  buy  a  home  for  them  »ft  Park  Avenue,  where 
■uch  social  functions  as  would  be  of  advantage  to  Berenice 
wad  in  some  measure  to  himself  as  an  occasional  gntSK 

496 


THE  ORDEAL  OF  BERENICE 

might  be  indulged  in.    Mrs.  Carter  z  took  of  co.T'.fort,  was 

f)leased  to  welcome  this  idea.  It  pn  *mised  to  give  her  abso* 
ute  financial  security  for  the  futurt 

"I  know  how  it  is  with  you,  Fra  '  ,"  she  declared.  "I 
know  you  need  some  place  that  you  can  call  a  iiome.  The 
whole  difficulty  will  be  with  Bevy.  Ever  since  that  miser- 
able puppy  made  those  charges  against  me  I  haven't  been 
able  to  talk  to  her  at  all.  She  doesn't  seem  to  want  to  do 
anything  I  3ugge8t.  You  have  much  more  influeiice  with 
her  than  r'hftve.  If  you  explain,  it  may  be  all  right.'* 
Instantly  Cowperwood  saw  an  opportunity.  Intensely 
pleawd  with  this  confession  of  weakness  on  the  part  of  the 
mother,  he  went  to  Berenice,  but  by  fi»  usual  method  of 
mdirect  direction. 

"You  know,  Bevy,"  he  said,  one  afternoon  wh<n  he  found 
■ei  ^  wondering  if  it  wouldn'k  be  better 

if  I  bought  a  large  house  for  you  and  your  mother  here  in 
INew  York,  where  you  and  she  could  do  «itertaining  on  a 
large  scale.  Since  I  can't  spend  my  money  on  myself,  I 
might  as  well  spend  it  on  some  one  who  would  make  an 
fnterestinK  use  of  it.  You  might  include  me  as  an  uncle 
or  father^  couno  or  •omcthing  of  that  aort/'  he  added, 
jlii^tly. 

"Berenice,  ^o  saw  quite  clearly  the  trap  he  was  setting 
for  her,  was  nonplussed.  At  the  same  time  she  could  not 
help  seeing  that  a  house,  if  it  were  beautifully  furnished, 
would  be  an  interesting  asset.  People  in  society  loved 
hxed,  notable  dwellings;  she  had  observed  that.  What 
functions  could  not  be  held  if  only  her  mother's  past  were 
not  charsed  against  her!  That  was  the  great  difficulty. 
It  was  almost  an  Arabian  situation,  heightened  by  the 
glitter  of  gold.  And  Cowperwood  was  always  so  diplo- 
matic. He  came  forward  with  such  a  bland,  engaging  smile. 
His  hands  were  so  shapely  and  seeking. 

"A  house  such  as  you  speak  of  would  enlarge  the  debt 
beyond  payment,  I  presume,"  she  remarked,  saidonically 
and  with  a  sad,  almost  contemptuous  gesture.  G>wper- 
w«>od  realized  how  her  piercing  intellect  was  following  his 
shifty  trail  and  winced.  She  must  see  that  her  fate  was 
m  his  hands,  but  oh!  if  she  would  only  surrender,  how 
•wiftly  every  dollar  of  his  vast  fortune  should  be  pUed 

497 


THE  TITAN 

humbly  at  her  feet.  She  should  have  her  heart's  desire,  if 
money  would  buy  it.  She  could  say  to  kua  ph  rad  he 
would  go;  come,  and  he  would  come. 

"Berenice,"  he  said,  getting  up,  "I  know  what  you 
think.  You  fancy  I  am  tr)H[ng  to  further  my  own  interests 
in  this  way,  but  I'm  not.  I  wouldn't  compromise  you 
ultimately  for  all  the  wealth  of  India.  I  have  toM  you 
where  I  stand.  Every  dollar  that  I  have  is  yours  tofdo 
with  as  you  choose  on  any  basis  that  you  may  care  to 
name.  1  have  no  future  outside  of  you,  none  excM>t  art. 
I  do  not  expect  you  to  marry  me.   Take  all  that  i  have. 


another. 

"Yesr  .  . 

"If  I  were  single  now,  and  you  were  not  in  love  or  mar- 
ried, would  you  consider  me  at  all?"  | 

ifo  ejret  pleaded  as  never  had  they  |deaded  before. 

She  started,  kwked  ooacenied,  tevere,  then  relaxed  u 
suddenly.  .  * 

"Let  me  see,"  she  said,  with  a  slight  bnghtenmg  of  the 
eyes  and  a  toss  of  her  head.   "That  is  a  second  cousin  to 
a  proposal,  isn't  it?  YiHt  have  no  right  to  make  it.  Yo^ 
aren't  single,  and  aren't  likdy  to  be.   Why  liioaU  I  tf3r 
to  read  the  future?" 

She  waUeed  mdifferently  out  of  the  room,  and  Cowper- 
wood  staved  a  moment  to  think.  Obviously  he  had  tri- 
umphed m  a  way.  She  had  not  taken  great  oSenae.  She 
must  like  him  and  wmdd  marry  ham  iS  only.  .  .  . 

Only  Aileen. 

/^a  now  he  wished  more  definitely  and  forcefully  than 
ever  that  he  were  really  and  truly  free.  He  felt  that  if 
ever  he  wished  to  attain  Berenice  ne  muct  pemuuie  Aiken 
to  divorce  him. 


CHAPTER  LVII 
aiubm's  last  cabo 

IT  7*?  not  «nt»I  •owe  little  time  after  they  were  estab- 
lished m  the  new  house  that  Aileen  fint  came  upon  any 
evidence  of  the  existence  of  Berenice  Fleming.  In  a  general 
way  she  assumed  that  there  were  women—possibly  some 
of  whom  she  had  known— Stephanie,  Mrs.  Hand,  floraioe 
Cochrane,  or  later  arrivals— yet  so  long  as  they  were  not 
obtruded  on  her  she  permitted  herself  the  semi-comforting 
giought  that  things  were  not  as  bad  as  they  might  be. 
bo  long,  indeed,  as  Cowperwood  was  genuinely  piomiscuous» 
86  long  as  he  trotted  here  and  diere,  not  mared  by  any 
articular  siren,  she  could  not  dt-pair,  for,  after  all,  she  had 
ttisnared  him  and  held  him  deliciously— without  variation^ 
•he  believed,  for  all  of  ten  years— a  feat  which  no  other 
poman  had  achieved  before  or  after.  Rita  Sohlberg  might 
fcaw^8ua«eded— the  beast!  How  she  hated  the  thought  of 
Kital  By  this  time,  howevw»  Cowperwood  was  getting 
on  m  years.  The  day  must  come  when  he  would  be  less 
keen^for  vanabihty,  or,  at  least,  would  think  it  no  longer 
worth  while  to  change.  If  only  he  did  not  find  some  one 
woman,  some  Circe,  who  would  bind  and  enslave  him  in 
these  later  years  as  she  had  herself  done  in  his  earlier  ones 
all  might  yet  be  well.  At  the  same  time  she  livtd  ta 
'enor  of  a  discovery  which  was  soon  to  follow. 

She  had  gone  out  (me  day  to  pay  a  caU  on  some  one  to 
whom  Rhees  Grier,  the  Chicago  sculptor,  had  given  her 
an  mtroduction.  Ctosstns.  Central  Park  in  one  of  the  new 
French  machuiM  which  Cowperwood  had  purchased  for 
nermdulgence,  her  glance  wandered  down  a  branch  road 
to  where  another  automobile  similar  to  her  own  was  stalled, 
it  was  early  in  the  afternoon,  at  which  time  Cowperwood 
was  presumably  eagated  in  Wall  Stmt.  YfltdMfelwiiw^ 

499 


THE  TITAN 

and  with  him  two  women,  neither  of  whom,  in  the  speed  of 
passing,  could  Aileen  quite  make  out.    She  had  her  car 
halted  and  driven  to  within  seeing-distance  behmd  a  dump 
of  bushes.    A  chauflFeur  whom  she  did  not  know  was  tmkcr- 
ine  at  a  handsome  machine,  while  on  the  grass  near  by 
stood  Cowperwood  and  a  tall,  slender  girl  with  red  hair 
somewhat  like  Aileen's  own.    Her  expression  was  aloot, 
poetic,  rhapsodical.   Aileen  could  not  analyze  it,  but  it 
fixed  her  attention  completely.    In  the  tonneau  sat  M 
elderly  lady,  whom  Aileen  at  once  assumed  to  be  the  girl  s 
mother.    Who  were  they?   What  was  Cowperwood  doing 
here  in  the  Park  at  this  hour?   Where  were  they^^f 
With  a  horrible  retch  of  envy  she  noted  upon  Cowperwood  t 
face  a  smile  the  like  and  import  of  which  she  wellknew. 
How  often  she  had  seen  it  years  and  vears  before!  "aving 
escaped  detection,  she  ordefed  her  chauffeur  to  follow  tHe 
car,  which  soon  started,  at .  safe  distance.    She  saw  U)W- 
perwood  and  the  two  ladies  put  down  at  one  of  the  great 
hotels,  and  followed  them  mto  the  dming-room,  whei^ 
from  behind  a  screen,  after  the  most  careful  manoeuvenii{|. 
she  had  an  opportunity  of  studying  them  at  her  leisur* 
She  drank  in  every  detail  of  Berenice's  face— the  dehcateijr 
pointed  chin,  the  clear,  fixed  blue  eyes,  the  straight,  sensi-t 
tive  nose  and  tawny  hair.  Calling  the  head  waiter,  she  m-l 
quired  the  names  of  the  two  women,  and  in  return  for  a 
liberal  tip  was  informed  at  once.   "Mr^  Ira  Carter,  1  be- 
lieve, and  her  daughter.  Miss  Fleming,  Mist  Berenice  l-lena- 
ing.   Mrs.  Carter  was  Mrs.  Fleming  once.      Aileen  fol- 
lowed them  out  eventually,  and  in  her  own  car  pursued 
them  to  their  door,  into  which  Cowperwood  also  disap- 
peared.  The  next  day,  by  telephoning  the  apartment  to 
make  inquiry,  she  learned  that  they  actually  Uved  there. 
After  a  few  days  of  brooding  she  tm^kytd  a  detectiire,  aod 
learned  that  Cowperwood  was  a  constant  visitor  at  tfce 
Carters',  that  the  machine  in  which  they  rode  was  his, 
maintained  at  a  separate  garage,  and  that  they  were  ot 
society  truly.   Aileen  would  never  have  followed  the  clue 
so  vigorously  had  it  not  been  for  the  look  she  had  se« 
Cowperwood  fix  on  the  girl  in  the  Park  and  in  the  renaurasrt 
— an  air  of  soul-hunger  which  could  not  be  gainsaid. 
Let  no  one  ridicule  the  terrors  of  unrequited  rove.  Iti 

500 


AILEEN'S  LAST  CARD 

tentacles  are  cancerou^  its  grip  is  of  icy  death.   Sitting  in 
her  boudoir  unmedutely  after  these  events,  driving,  walk- 
ing, shopping,  calling  on  the  few  with  whom  she  had  man- 
aged to  scrape  an  acquaintance,  AUeen  thought  morning, 
noon,  and  night  of  this  new  woman.  The  pale,  delicate 
face  haunted  her.   What  were  those  eyes,  so  remote  in 
their  gaze,  surveying?   Love?   Cowperwood?   Yes!   Yes  I 
Gwie  in  a  flash,  and  permanently,  at  it  seemed  to  Aileen, 
was  the  value  of  this  house,  her  dream  of  a  new  social 
entrance.   And  she  had  already  suffered  so  much;  endured 
so  much.   Cowperwood  being  absent  for  a  fortnight,  she 
moped  in  her  room,  sighed,  raged,  and  then  began  to  drink, 
liinally  she  sent  for  an  actor  who  had  once  paid  attention 
to  her  in  Chicago,  and  whom  she  had  later  met  here  in  the 
circle  of  the  theaters.   She  was  not  so  much  burning  with 
lust  at  determined  in  her  drunken  gloom  that  <4ie  would 
have  revenge.   For  days  there  followed  an  orgy,  in  which 
wine,  besrialitv,  mutual  recriminadon,  hatred,  and  despair 
were  mvolved.   Sobering  eventually,  she  wondered  what 
Cowperwood  would  think  of  her  now  if  he  knew  this? 
puld  he  ever  love  her  any  more?   Could  he  even  tolerate 
her?   But  what  did  he  care?   It  served  him  right,  the  dog! 
bhe  would  show  him,  she  would  wreck  his  dream,  she  would 
make  her  own  life  a  scandal,  and  his  too  1   She  would  shame 
him  before  all  the  world.   He  should  never  have  a  divoicel 
He  should  never  be  able  to  many  a  siri  like  that  and  leave 
her  alone— never,  never,  never!   When  Cowperwood  re- 
tumed  die  nazied  at  hkn  wi^out  vondmfias  an  cxirfana^ 
tion. 

He  suspected  at  once  that  she  had  been  spying  upon 
his  manoeuvers.  Moreover,  he  did  not  fail  to  notice  her 
heavy  eyes,  superheated  cheeks,  and  sickly  breath.  Obvi- 
ously she  had  abandmed  her  dream  of  a  social  victory  ^ 
some  kind,  and  was  entering  on  a  career  of  what — de- 
bauchery? Since  coming  to  New  York  she  had  failed  ut- 
terly, he  thought,  to  make  any  rin^  mtelligent  move 
toward  her  social  rehabilitarion.  The  banal  realms  of  art 
and  the  stage,  with  which  in  his  absence  or  neglect  she  had 
tnfled  with  here,  at  the  had  done  in  Chicago,  wen  worse 
than  useless;  they  were  destrucrive.  He  must  have  a  long 
talk  with  her  one  of  these  days,  must  confess  frankly  to  hit 

sot 


1  ' 


THE  TITAN 

passion  for  Berenice,  and  appeal  to  her  sympathy  ?nd  good 
Unse.   What  scenes  would  follow!   Yet  she  might  suc- 
cumb, at  that.   Despair,  pride,  disgust  might  move  her. 
Besides,  he  could  now  bestow  upon  her  a  very  large  fortune. 
She  could  go  to  Europe  or  remain  here  and  l»ve  in  luxury. 
He  would  always  remain  friendly  with  her— helpful,  ad- 
visory— ^if  she  would  permit  it.  «      j  u- 
The  conversation  which  eventually  followed  on  this 
topic  was  of  such  stufF  as  dreams  are  made  of..  It  ^^^f^^ 
ho%ow  and  unnatural  within  the  walls  where  it  took  place. 
Consider  the  great  house  in  upper  Fifth  Avenue,  its  jnagmh- 
cent  chambers  aglow,  of  a  stormy  Sunday  night.  Cowper- 
wood  was  lingenng  in  the  citv  at  this  time,  busy  with  a 
group  of  Eastern  financiers  who  were  influencing  his  con- 
test in  the  state  legislature  oflllinois.    Aileen  was  monjra- 
tarily  consoled  by  the  thought  that  for  him  perhaps  love 
migfit,  after  all,  be  a  thing,apart-a  thing  no  Jonf  r  vital 
anS  soul-controlling.   To-niglit  he  was  ""'ne  mtTie  court 
of  orchids,  reading  a  book-the  diary  of  Cellini,  which 
same  one  had  recommended  to  him— stopping  to  think 
how  and  then  of  things  in  Chicago  or  Sonngfield,  or  to 
make  a  note.    Outside  the  rain  was  splashing  «»  jor^tt 
on  the  electriclighted  asphalt  of  Fifth  Avenue-the  Pa 
opposite  a  Corot-like  shadow.   Aileen  was  in  the  music- 
room  strumming  indifferently.    She  was  thinking  of  times 
past— Lynde,  from  whom  she  had  not  heard  in  half  a  year, 
Watwn  Skeet,  the  sculptor,  who  was  also  out  ot  her  ken 
at  present.   When  Cowperwood  was  in  the  city  and  in  the 
house  she  was  accustomed  from  habit  to  remain  indooft 
or  near.    So  great  is  the  influence  of  past  customs  of  devo- 
tion that  they  linger  long  past  the  hour  when  the  act  ceases 
to  become  valid.                      .         ,  ir  ^„ 
"What  an  awful  night!"  she  observed  once,  strolhng  to 
a  window  to  peer  out  from  behind  a  brocaded  valance. 

"It  is  bad,  iVt  itr  replied  Cowperwood,  as  she  returned. 
"Hadn't  you  thought  of  going  anywhere  this  evening r 

"No— oh  no,"  replied  Aileen,  indifferently.  She  rose 
restlessly  from  the  piano,  an.'  trolled  on  mto  the  great 
picture-gallery.  Stopping  befoi,  one  of  Raphael  Sanzios 
Holy  Families,  only  recently  hung,  she  paused  to  cpateni- 
plate  the  terene  face— medieval,  Mftdomttewitte,  Italaii. 


AILEEN'S  LAST  CARD 
The  lady  seemed  fragile,  colorless,  spineless— without  life 

Y5;";K*r,'"^t  y'^'"""^  Why  did  artists  ^St  them? 
Yet  the  little  Chnst  was  sweet.  Art  bored  AileS  SSSs 
others  were  enthusiastic.  She  craved  only  the  foSf^e  of 
the  hving-not  pamted  resemblances.  She  returned  to  the 
music-room.  to  the  court  of  orchids,  and  was  just  ab^t  to 
^T^l\::JSi'l{Z^^''  a  drink  and  kd  .^^ 
You're  bored,  aren't  you?" 

Oh  no;  I'm  used  to  lonely  evenings,"  she  leoUed 
quietly  and  without  any  attempic  at  sarcali;,.  ^  * 
Kelentless  as  he  was  in  hewing  life  to  his  theorv— 
hammering  substance  to  the  form  of  his  thought— vet  he 
was  tender,  too,  in  the  manner  of  a  rainbS/SSdnnver 
an  abyss,    lot  the  moment  he  wanted  to  mT^^'P^J 

he  reflected  instantly  how  such  a  remark  would  be  rtceived 
He  meditated,  holding  his  book  in  his  hand  above  hiTknte 
ooking  at  the  purUng  water  that  flowed  and  flowed  fn 
spHnkJing  showers  over  the  sportive  marble  figJS  if 
mermaids,  a  Tnton,  and  nymphs  astride  of  fishes. 
^rnJ"i^^  "^-"^  "««?*P.?y  "»        "ate,  any  more,  are 

thJI 'L??**.?^*^  turned  of  a  sudden  to  the  one  problem 
"YouloM'^  r         opportunities  of  this  hour. 

cM  LrC         rephed,  for  her  boredom  merely  con- 
in  'PP"***"  "  1?  ^ing  able  to  command 
i    ^  mterest  or  his  sentiment. 
Why  do  you  say  that  in  just  diat  way?"  he  asked. 
Because  I  know  vou  would.    I  know  why  you  ask. 

tha?  7°"^..         "  I  ^ant  to  do 

m  ...™  what  you  want  to  do.   You'd  like 

to  turn  me  ofl^  hke  an  old  horse  now  that  you  are  tiiedof 

foS,W.  'W"       "^^"^^^  ^  f^^'  any  more  com- 

tortable.   What  a  bar  you  are,  FrankI   How  really  shiftv 

vou  IruU  ■  ^'°?^  wonder  you're  a  multimSr:  ff 
world  DonV  '"'^"g'j  you  would  eat  up  the  whole 
knn^"  f  D  '  you  thmk  for  one  moment  that  I  don't 
know  of  Berenice  Fleming  here  in  New  York,  and  how 
you  re  danong  attendance  on  her-becau«  I  di.  I  kw 


THE  TITAN 


how  vou  have  been  hangine  about  her  for  months  and 
months — ever  since  we  have  been  here,  and  for  long  before. 
You  think  she's  wonderful  now  because  she's  young  and 
in  society.  I've  seen  you  in  the  Waldorf  and  in  the  Park 
hanging  on  her  every  word,  looking  at  her  with  adoring  eyes. 
What  a  fool  you  are,  to  be  so  big  a  manl  £very  little  snip, 
if  she  has  pink  cheeks  and  a  doll's  face,  can  wind  you 
right  around  her  finger.  Rita  Sohlberg  did  it;  Stephanie 
Platow  did  it;  Florence  Cochrane  did  it;  Cecily  Haguenin 
— and  Heaven  knows  how  many  more  that  I  never  heard  of. 
I  suppose  Mrs.  Hand  still  lives  with  you  in  Chicago — the 
cheap  strumpet !  Npw  it's  Berenice  Fleming  and  her  frump 
of  a  mother.  Frdm  all  I  can  learn  you  haven't  been  aim 
to  get  her  yet — because  her  mother's  too  shrewd,  perhaps — 
but  you  probably  will  in  the  end.  It  isn't  vou  so  muen  as 
jrour  money  that  they're  after.  Pah!  Well,  Fm  unhi^py 
enough,  but  it  isn't  anything  you  can  remedy  any  more. 
Whatever  you  could  do  to  make  me  unhappy  you  have  done, 
and  now  you  talk  of  my  being  happier  away  from  3fOu. 
Clever  boy,  you!  I  know  you  the  way  I  know  my  ten 
fingers.  You  don't  deceive  me  at  zny  time  in  any  way 
any  more.  I  can't  do  anything  about  it.  I  can't  stop  you 
from  making  a  fool  of  yourself  with  evenr  woman  you  me^, 
and  having  people  talk  from  one  end  of  the  country  to  tm 
other.  Why,  for  a  woman  to  be  seen  with  you  is  enough 
to  fix  her  reputation  forever.  Right  now  all  Broadway 
knows  you*n  running  after  Berenice  Fleming.  Her  namef 
will  soon  be  as  sweet  as  those  of  the  others  you've  had. 
She  might  as  well  give  herself  to  you.  If  she  ever  had  a 
decent  reputation  it's  gone  by  now,  ycu  can  depoid  upon 
that." 

These  remarks  irritated  Cowperwood  greatly — enraged 
him — particularly  her  references  to  Berenice.  What  wett 
you  to  do  with  such  a  woman?  he  thought.  Her  tongue 
was  becoming  unbearable;  her  speech  in  its  persistence  and 
force  was  that  of  a  termagant.  Surely,  surely,  he  had 
made  a  great  mistake  in  marrying  her.  At  the  same  time 
ri"^  control  of  her  was  largely  in  nis  own  hands  even  yet. 

"Aileen,"  he  said,  coolly,  at  the  end  of  her  speech,  "you 
talk  too  much.  You  rave.  You're  growing  vulgar,  I  be- 
lieve. Now  let  me  teU  you  tome^mc."  Am  lie  fixed  bar 

m 


AILEEN'S  LAST  CARD 

Thtlf  tht'  ''"'"T^  ^y*"-  T  '.'^  apologiw  to  make. 

Think  what  you  please.    I  know  why  you  say  what  you 

do.    But  here  is  the  point.    I  want  you  to  get  it  straiht 

and  clear.    It  may  make  some  difference  eventually  if 

any  more.  If  you  want  to  put  it  another  way— I'm  tired 
of  you.  I  have  been  for  a  lone  while.  That's  why  I've 
run  with  other  women.  If  I  Ldn't  been  tired  o^f  yon 
I  wouldn  t  have  done  ,t.  What's  more,  I'm  in  love  ^th 
somebody  ds^Beroiice  Fleming,  and  I  expect  to  stay  in 
love.  I  wish  I  were  free  so  I  could  rearrange  my  life  on  a 
different  basis  and  find  a  Utde  comfort  before  I  die.  You 
don  t  really  care  for  me  any  more.  You  can't.  I'll  admit  I 
have  treated  you  badly;  but  if  I  had  rV^lly  loved  you  I 
wouldn  t  have  done  it.  would  I?  It  isn't  my  fault  tha^Iove 
died  in  nrie.  is  it?  It  isn't  your  fault.  I'm  not  blaming  you 
Love  isn  t  a  bunch  of  coals  that  can  be  blown  by  an  artificial 

nf  r'S?  ''fT^A  ^f'     •       that's  an  end 

of  It.  Smce  I  don't  lov^  vou  and  can't,  why  shouM  you 
want  me  to  stay  near  you?  Why  shouldn't  you  let  me  go 
and  give  me  a  divorce?   You'H  be  just  as  Lppy  or  u5h 

Why  not?  I  want  to 
and  have  been  for  a 
rl-iT*  ~  "  tin —       -"-"Kcuicnt^  that  seems  fair  and 

3fo..U  T^°"ii  ^''^^  y^'i  house-these  pictures, 
though  I  reaUv  don't  see  what  you'd  want  with  them." 
tv^owperwood  had  no  intention  of  giving  up  the  eallerv  if 
he  cc  uld  help  itO  :'I'll  settle  on  4  bS^ 
you  *  esire,  or  I'U  give  you  a  fixed  sum  outright.    I  want 

^„  K.  Now  why  won't 

you  be  sensible  and  let  me  do  this?" 

During  this  harangue  Cowperwood  had  first  sat  and  then 
stood.  At  the  statement  that  his  love  was  really  dead— 
the  first  time  he  had  ever  baldiv  and  squarelv  announced 

£ri^  "  t^*^  P^'^^  ''"^^^  *?^P"'  h«  fcand  to  her  fore- 
head over  her  eves.    It  was  then  he  had  arisen.    He  was 

J^lK^i""™  u  '  I  ''"'^  revenjiefol  for  the  moment.  She 
realaed  now  that  he  meant  this-that  in  his  heart  was  no 

oriel  ^o  hfn?'  ^^^i^^'^^^  before-w,  sweet  mem° 
?eaS.  rf..t  ifi  ?^*>^PPy  »»o"rs,  days,  weeks, 

yean,  that  were  so  glittenng  and  wonderful  to  her  in 

50$ 


THE  TITAN 


retrospect.  Great  Heavens,  it  was  really  true!  His  love 
was  dead;  he  had  said  it!  But  for  the  nonce  she  could 
not  believe  it;  she  would  not.    It  really  couldn't  be  true. 

"  Frank,"  she  besan,  coming  toward  him,  the  while  he 
moved  away  to  evade  her.   Her  eyes  were  wide,  her  hands 
trembling,  her  lips  moving  in  an  emotional,  wavy,  rhythmic 
way.   "  Yo?i  really  don't  mean  that,  do  you?   Love  isn't 
wholly  dead,  is  it?   All  the  love  you  used  to  feel  for  me? 
Oh,  Frank,  I  have  raged,  I  have  hated,  I  have  said  terrible, 
ugly  things,  but  it  has  been  because  I  have  been  in  love 
with  you!   All  the  time  I  have.   You  know  that.    I  have 
felt  so  bad— O  God,  how  bad  I  have  felt!   Frank,  you 
don't  know  it — but  my  pillow  has  been  wet  many  and 
many  a  night.    I  have  cried  and  cried.    I  have  got  up  and 
walked  the  floor.    I  have  drunk  whisky  —  plain,  raw 
iN^iisky— because  sontiediir**  hurt  me  and  1  wanted  tt^kill 
the  pain.    I  have  gone  wi     ither  men,  one  after  another 
— ^you  know  that — but,  ohi  i  rank,  Frank,  you  know  that  I 
didn't  want  to,  that  I  didn't  mean  to!   I  have  always 
despised  the  thought  of  them  afterward.    It  was  only 
because  I  was  lonely  and  because  you  wouldn't  pay  any 
attenticm  to  me  or  be  nice  to  m^"  Oh,  how  I  have  longed  and 
longed  for  just  one  loving  ho  c  widi  you-yone  night,  one 
day!  There  are  women  who  ould  suffer  in  silence,  butf 
can't.   7i'Ty  mind  won't  let  me  alone,  Frank — my  thoughts 
won't.   I  can't  help  thinking  how  I  used  to  run  to  you  in, 
Philadelphia,  when  you  would  meet  me  on  your  way! 
home,  or  when  I  used  to  come  to  you  in  Ninth  Street  or  on 
Eleventh.  Oh,  Frank,  I  probably  did  wrong  to  your  first 
wife.   I  see  it  now-4iow  she  must  have  sintered!   But  I 
was  just  a  silly  girl  then,  and  I  didn't  know.   Don't  you 
remember  how  I  used  to  come  to  vou  in  Ninth  Street  and 
how  I  saw  you  day  after  day  in  the  penitentiary  in  Hiila- 
delphia?   You  said  then  you  would  love  me  always  and 
that  you  would  never  forget.  Can't  you  love  me  any  more- 
just  a  little?  Is  it  really  true  that  your  love  is  dead  ?  Am 
I  so  old,  so  changed?   Oh,  Frank,  please  don't  say  that— 
please  don't — please,  please  please!   I  beg  of  you!" 

She  tried  to  reach  him  and  put  a  hand  on  his  arm,  but 
he  stepped  aside.  To  him,  as  he  looked  at  her  now,  she  was 
the  antithesis  of  anything  he  could  brook,  let  alooe  desire 


AILEEN'S  LAST  CA-?D 

artistically  or  phyMcaHy.  The  charm  was  gone,  the  spell 
broken  It  was  another  tvpe,  another  poift  of  vfew  he 
required,  but,  above  all  an/ principaUy,  ylouth,  youth-the 
spmt.  for  instance,  that  was  5n  BeJeniS  kming  He  was 
jprry-in  his  way  He  felt  sympathy,  but  it  was  SeThe 
Onkling  of  a  far^flF  sheep-bell-the  moaning  of  a  wh^tl  ne 
^oy  he^d  over  the  «C«h  of  night-bSi  wav^s  on  f 

rJ'TS"!*^""*'  T/^xi'"'?  "  Aileen,"  he  said.  "I 
can  t  help  myself.    My  love  s  dead.    It  is  eone    I  ranV 

l^^}  »S  ^  K  ^  "^'^  I  'ould,  buf I  canV;^ou 

«u.rundermnd  that.   Some  thing,  ,re  'possible  and'somc 

He  looked  at  her,  but  with  no  relenting.    Aileen  for  her 

ShLoT-  '"l  ''he  bdiever^ve  cold 

philosophic  logic-the  man  of  business,  the  Sinker  the 

te?o&'S"-l,^l^*  the  adamant  5: 

u    c  couM  thus  definitely  close  its 

don^^'  P^llT  pH*^'  foolishly.  "Please 

don  t.    Please  don't  say  that.   It  might  come  back  a  litJe 

T  7  ^7^?i*  'T^"'*^  on'y  believe  in  it.  Don't  you  «i  iSS 
W   WL'^Ji^'A"^"        *='«P«<*        about  the 

^""^  '^'^^  Aileen,"  he  pleaded  "It 

doesn  t  do  any  good.  I  can't  lie  to  mvwlf  I  don»;  ^tl 
to  he  to  you    Life  is  too  short.    KSf; re  fie"  Tl 

that  I  do?"  *  WW  t  wve  you.   Why  should  I  say 

m/r^l^^'J!  ?"^*  "'^^       a  portion  that  was 

s^«^    f  ^  childish-petted  Tnl 

spoiled— a  portion  that  was  sheer  unreason,  and  a  V^nrfjUn 
that  was  splendid  emotion-deep,  darrSvolted    ^t  tht 

"^T^it^^'^J^''  ^'^'^^  -ed Tthi^w  her  back 

2  herself  for  ever  and  ever  to  b.  e,  she  firw  oleaded 

''^Mi-gne- to  oompKHmse-^  sU  iS^^otTulht 

fQ7 


THE  TITAN 


Stephanie  Platow,  she  had  not  fought  Florence  Cochrane, 
nor  Cecily  Haguenin,  nor  Mrs.  Hand,  nor,  indeed,  anybody 
after  Rita,  and  she  would  Bght  no  more.  She  had  not  spied 
on  him  in  connection  with  Berenice — she  had  accidentally 
met  them.  True,  she  had  gone  with  other  men,  but? .  .  . 
Berenice  was  beautiful,  she  admitted  it,  but  so  was  she  in 
her  way  still — a  little,  still.  Couldn't  he  find  a  place  for 
her  yet  in  his  life?   Wasn't  there  room  for  both? 

At  this  expression  of  humiliation  and  defeat  Cowperwood 
was  sad,  sick,  almost  nauseated.  How  could  one  argue? 
How  make  her  understand? 

"  I  wish  it  were  possible,  Aileen»"  he  amduded*  finally 
and  heavily,  "but  it  isn't." 

All  at  once  she  arose,  her  eyes  red  but  dry. 

"You  don't  love  me,  then,  at  all,  do  you?   Not  a  bit?" 

"No,  Aileen,  I  don't.  I  don't  mean  by  that  that  I  dis- 
like you.  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  aren't  interestiiu; 
in  your  way  as  a  woman  and  that  I  don't  sympathize  wip 
you.  I  do.  But  I  don't  love  you  any  more.  I  canfk. 
The  thing  I  used  to  feel  I  can't  feel  any  more.**  \ 

She  paused  for  a  moment,  uncertain  how  to  take  thi4 
the  while  she  whitened,  grew  more  tense,  more  spiritual 
than  she  had  been  in  many  a  day.  Now  she  felt  desperate, 
angry,  sick,  but  like  the  scorpion  that  ringed  by  fire  can 
turn  only  on  itself.  What  a  hell  life  was,  she  told  herself. 
How  it  slipped  away  and  left  one  aging,  horribly  akme! 
Love  was  nothing,  faith  nothing — nothing,  nothing! 

A  fine  li^t  of  convicdon,  intensity,  intention  lit  her  Vft 
for  the  moment.  "Very  well,  then,'  she  said,  coolly,  tense- 
ly. "I  know  what  I'll  do.  I'll  not  live  this  way.  I'll 
not  live  beyond  tO'^ught.  I  want  to  die,  ani^ow,  and  I 
wiU." 

It  was  by  no  means  a  cry,  this  X?-"  but  a  calm  statement. 
It  should  prove  her  love.  To  Ct  ^  perwood  it  seemed  un- 
real, bravado,  a  momentary  rage  intended  to  frighten  him. 
She  turned  and  walked  up  the  grand  staircase,  which  was 
near — a  splendid  piece  of  marble  and  bronze  fifteen  feet 
wide,  with  marble  nereids  for  newel-posts,  and  dancing 
figures  worked  into  the  stmie.  She  went  into  her  tooa 
quite  calmly  and  took  up  a  steel  paper-cutter  of  dagger 
cesign — a  knife  with  a  handle  of  bronze  and  a  point  of 

So8 


AILEEN'S  LAST  CARD 

Uncertain,  astonished,  not  able  to  believe  that  «hi  rnnM 

Cowpemood  st.ll  remained  where  she  hfd  left  him ^nSl 
ing.  He  had  not  been  so  greatly  moved-the  tantlS^.  «r 
women  were  common— aid  ye--    Co  , Irf  cKl  ^r  L 
contemplating  death?  IfoJ  J^uld  she?  How  ridTcuf 

OKltol  aU his  doubts  there  was  >  linJ  „f  ..-.i...:.  " 


b«kof  ifihS  doXts  th'STTan  ki^dTf'^f "  L> 


W^bSt  Hi'"^  T'l*"?  <•?•  Wration  stood  «t  « 
for  a  ch«l  KmJJS?  ^ 

enZh."  "iwed.   It  cm  bo  opened  quick 

StiD  no  KHind. 

A  'se^rJ^t  'b^id,rd.e^  V''"^'^'  ''°^"fi<^- 

enter    A  J?   ^""^  u   ^^.^  "e**^        would  not 

A  aecond  was  on  the  other  side.   "There  ;»  a 

509 


•  *  »■ 


THE  TITAN 

bigger  hammer  somevHiere,"  Cowperwood  said.  "Get  iti 
Get  me  a  chair!"  Meantime,  with  terrific  eneifjr,  unng  a 
larse  chisel,  he  forced  the  door. 

There  on  one  of  the  stone  benches  of  the  lovely  room 
sat  Aileen,  the  level  pool  of  water  before  her,  the  sunrise 
glow  over  everything,  tropic  birds  in  their  branches,  and 
she,  her  hair  disheveled,  her  face  pale,  one  arm— her  left — 
hanging  down,  ripped  and  bleeding,  trickling  a  thick  stream 
of  nch,  red  blood.  On  the  floor  was  a  pool  of  blood,  fierce, 
scarlet,  like  tome  rich  doth,  dieadjr  turning  daifcer  m 
placet. 

Cowperwood  paused — amazed.  He  hurried  forward, 
seized  her  arm,  nude  a  bandage  of  a  torn  handkerchief 
above  the  w6und,  tent  for  a  suigecMi,  szyinfi  the  while: 
"How  cou)9  you,  Aiken?  How  impottiblel  lo  try  to  take 

vri^li«>    lifiKt   ,     nPl**A    mm'*    Imma  Imam^J^    —  —   


your  life!  Thit  ita't  kyve.  It  tto't  even  madnett,  It's 

foolish  acting."  \ 

**jLkmn  you  really  care?"  she  atked.  ^ 

"How  can  you  ask?   How  could  you  really  do  this?" 

He  was  angry,  hurt,  glad  that  she  was  alive,  shame<^ 
many  things.  \ 

"Don't  you  really  care?"  she  repeated,  wearily. 

"Aileen,  this  is  nonsense.  I  will  not  talk  to  you  about 
it  now.  Have  you  cut  yourself  anjrwhere  dte?*  he  atked^ 
feeliM  about  her  bosom  and  sides. 

"Then  why  not  let  me  die?^*  she  replied,  in  the  same 
manner.   "I  will  some  day.   I  wart  to."  \ 

"WelL  you  may,  some  day,"  he  replied,  "but  not  to  ^, 
night.   I  tcarcely  diink  you  want  to  now.  This  is  too 
much,  Aileen — really  impossible." 

He  drew  himself  up  and  looked  at  her— cool,  unbelieving, 
die  light  of  control,  even  of  victory,  in  hit  eyta.  As  he  had 
suspected,  it  was  not  truly  real.  She  would  not  have  killed 
herself.  She  had  expected  him  to  come— to  make  the  old 
eflfbrt.  ^  Very  good.  He  would  tee  her  tafely  in  bed  and  in 
a  nurse's  hands,  and  would  then  avoid  her  as  much  as  pos- 
rible  in  the  future.  If  her  intention  was  genuine  she  would 
oir^it  out  in  hit  abtenee,  hue  he  did  not  before  the 


^1 


CHAPTER  LVIII 

A  MAKAUDER  UPON  THE  C<»fM(»fWBALTB 

THE  spring  and  summer  months  of  1897  and  the  late  fall 
of  1898  witnessed  the  final  gloring  battle  between  Frank 
Algernon  Cpwperwood  and  the  fbn»%iKnical  to  him  in  so 
far  as  the  city  of  Chicago,  the  state  of  Illinois,  and  indeed 
theUmted  States  of  America,  were  concerned  When  in 
i»fb  a  new  governor  and  a  new  group  of  state  itpresenta- 
Pr*  'f*'*,  installed  Cowperwood  decided  that  it  would 
M  advisable  to  continue  the  struggle  at  once.  By^e  time 
i5T  convene  for  its  laboriVyear 

would  have  passed  since  Governor  Swanson  had  vetoed 
tie  ongmal  public-service-commission  bill.  By  that  time 
Dubhc  sentiment  as  aroused  by  the  newspapers  would  have 
ftad  ame  to  cool.  Already  through  various  favorable 
linanaal  mterests— pardcularly  Haeckelheimer,  Gotloeb  & 
KM.  and  all  the  subsurface  forces  th^  lepicteated— he  had 
panroSedwl  the  mconing  toveiiior,  and  had  in 

The  new  governor  in  this  instance--one  Corporal  A.  E. 
n^j'^'I^  ex-Congressman  Archer,  as  he  was  somerimes 
caned— TO,  unlike  Swanson,  a  curious  mixture  of  the 
commonplace  and  the  ideal— one  of  those  shiftily  loyal  and 
loyally  shifty  who  make  their  upward  way  by  devious. 
It  not  too  reprehensible  methods.  He  was  a  little  man, 
stocky,  brown-haired,  brown-eyed,  vigorous,  witty,  with 
the  ordinary  poliucian's  estimate  of  public  morality— 
namely,  that  there  is  no  such  thing.  A  dnimmeMwy  at 
tourteen  m  the  War  of  the  Rebellion,  a  private  at  sixteen 
and  eighteen,  he  had  subsequently  been  breveted  for 
conyicuous  military  service.  At  this  later  time  he  waa 
head  of  tiie  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  and  conspicuous 
in  vanoitt  ttiinng  eleemosynary  efforts  on  behalf  of  the 

SII 


V 


THE  TITAN 


<4d  soldiers,  their  widows  and  orphans.  A  fine  American, 
flag-waving,  tobacco-diewine,  fbuMwearing  Ht^  man  was 

this — and  one  with  notewordiy  political  ambidons.  Other 
Grand  Army  men  had  been  conspicuous  in  the  lists  for 
Presidential  nominations.  Why  not  he?  An  excellent 
orator  in  a  high  falsetto  way,  and  popular  because  of  good- 
fellowship,  presence,  force,  he  was  by  nature  materially 
and  commercially  minded — therefore  without  basic  appeu 
to  the  higher  ranks  of  intelligence.  In  seeking  the  nomma- 
tion  for  governorship  he  had  made  the  usual  overtures  and 
had  in  turn  been  sounded  by  Haeckelheimer,  Gotloeb,  and 
various  other  corporate  interests  who  were  in  league  with 
Cbwperwood  as  to  his  attitude  in  regard  to  a  proposed 
pubhc- service  commission.  At  first  he  had  refused  to 
commit  himself.  Later,  finding  that  the  C.  W.  &  I.  and 
the  Chicago  &  Pacific  (very  powerful  railroad '  both)  were 
interested,  and  that  other  candidates  were  ni..ning  him  a 
tight  diase  in  the  gubernatorial  contest,  he  succumbed  in 
a  measure,  declarine  privately  that  in  case  th*:  legislatttte 
proved  to  be  strongly  in  favor  of  the  idea  and  the  new»- 
pipcTB  not  too  crusmngly  opposed  he  might  be  willmg  to 
stand  as  its  advocate.  Other  candidates  expressed  sinulilr 
views,  but  Corporal  Archer  proved  to  have  the  greater 
following,  and  was  eventually  nominated  and  comfortably 
elected. 

Shortly  after  the  new  legislature  had  convened,  it  so 
chanced  that  a  certain  A.  S.  Rotherhite,  publisher  of  the 
South  Chicago  Journal,  was  one  day  accidentally  sitdi^  as 
a  visitor  in  the  seat  of  a  state  representative  by  the  name 
of  Clarence  Mulligan.  While  so  occupied  Rotherhite  was 
familiarly  slapped  on  the  back  by  a  certain  Soiator  Ladrno, 
of  Menard,  and  was  invited  to  come  out  into  the  rotunda, 
where,  posing  as  Representative  Mulligan,  he  was  intro- 
duced by  Senator  Ladrigo  to  a  stranger  by  the  name  of 
Gerard.  The  latter,  with  but  few  prelimmary  remarks, 
began  as  follows:  * 

"Mr.  Mulligan,  I  want  to  fix  it  with  you  in  regard  to  this 
Southack  bill  which  is  soon  to  come  up  in  the  house.  We 
have  seventy  votes,  but  we  want  ninety.  The  fact  that 
the  bill  has  gone  to  a  second  reading  in  the  senate  shows 
our  strength.   I  am  authorized  to  come  to  terms  with  you 

51a 


A  MARAUD£R 

thi«  morning  if  you  would  like.  Your  vote  is  worth  two 
thousand  dollars  to  you  the  moment  the  bill  is  signed." 

m^Ll^  ^^tf^'kr*""-  !?»PP«^  newly Xruited 
member  of  the  OppontioQ  piess,  proved  veiy  camiy  ia 
this  situation.  '  v«»ijr  «i 

naii^' "**  "  •twamewd,  "I  did  not  imderttand  your 
©the?'*"''  ^  Gerard,"  repUed  this 

d.r  niSSllS^tt  ^  ««P«i«  of 

the  presunttd  Representative  Mulligan. 

Strange  to  state,  at  this  very  instant  the  authentic  Mul- 
ligan actually  aopeared— heralded  aloud  by  several  of  his 
UKU^''%7u°  happraed  to  be  lingering  near  by  in  the 
i^fZ  c^^^T*?  .^*  Gerard  and  the 

tl^^htfi'f'i>uF  withdrew.   Needless  to 

say  that  Mr.  Rotherfiite  hurried  at  once  to  the  forces  of 
righteousness.  The  press  should  spread  this  little  story 
fll!  ^'  ™  *  ""^^  incident;  and  it  brought 

the  whole  matter  once  more  mto  the  fatal,  poisonous  fidd 
or  eress  discussion. 

At  once  the  Chicago  papers  flew  to  arms.   The  ciy  was 

^»  att^rW^K  Cowperwoodian^^S 
^  iE!:i  members  of  the  senate  and  the  house 

jnn  aoiemnly  warned.  The  sterling  attitude  of  ex- 
Governor  Swanson  was  held  up  as  an  example  to  the  present 

m  Tniman  L«die  MacDonald's  Inquirer,  "smacks  of 
chicane,  pohtical  subtlety,  and  political  iuegleiy.    Well  do 

and  ^nlS*'^^**  P~P'«     I^o"  know  who 

and  what  parocular  organizaaon  would  prove  the  true 

Jf^hllir;  PublicserSce  comii>i«io^ 

at  the  behest  of  a  private  street-railway  corporation.  Are 
the  tentacles  of  frank  A.  Cowperwoid  to  S^p  thS 
lewslature  as  they  did  the  last?"  «iveiop  tnis 

hosfJU  r.^S?*''^'*-  "^^S^  "*  conjunction  with  various 
empttk  tX"  Cowperwood  to 

day*?t*^unch     ^ "^'^F '"^^     ^ddi^m,  one 
aay  at  lunch.     I  have  a  right  to  an  exteaaoo  of  mv 
franchises  for  if^r  jr«ua.  and!  am  goingS^  lS 
"  S13 


THE  TITAN 

• 

at  New  York  and  Philadelphia.  Why,  the  Eastern  houses 
laugh.  They  don't  understand  such  a  situation.  It's  all 
the  inside  work  of  this  Hand-Schiyhart  crowd.  I  know 
what  they're  doing  and  who's  pulling  the  strings.  The 
newspapers  yap^yap  every  time  they  eive  an  order.  Hyssop 
waltzes  every  time  Ameel  moves.  Little  MacDimala  is  a 
stool-pigeon  for  Hand.  It's  got  down  so  low  now  that 
it's  anything  to  beat  Cowperwood.  Well,  thev  won't  beat 
me.  I'll  find  a  way  out.  The  legislature  will  pass  a  bill 
allowing  for  a  fifty-year  franchise,  aad^S^^^vemor  will 
sign  it.  I'll  see  to  diat  personally.  I  have  at  iKHN'li^liteai 
thousand  stockholderS'tdio  want  a  decent  run  for  their 
money,  and^^^propose  to  give  it  to  them.  Aren't  other  men 
getting  rimr  Aren't  omer  corporations  earning  ten  and 
twelve  pet  cent.  ?  Why  shouldn't  I  ?  Is  Chicago  anf  the 
worse?  Don't  I  employ  twenty  thousand  men  ana  pay 
them  well  ?  All  this  palaver  about  the  rights  of  the  people 
and  the  duty  to  the  public — rats!  Does  Mr.  Hand  acknowl- 
edge any  duty  to  the  public  where  his  special  interests  are 
ooncemed?  Or  Mr.  Schryhart?  Or  Mr.  Ameel?  Xht 
newspapers  be  damned  I  I  know  my  rights.  An  honest 
legislature  will  give  me  a  decent  franchise  to  save  me  frMn 
the  local  political  sharks." 

By  this  time,  however,  the  newspapers  had  become  M 
subtle  and  powerful  as  the  politicians  themselves.  Under 
the  great  dome  of  the  capitol  at  Springfield,  in  the  halls 
and  conference  chambers  of  the  Mnate  and  house,  in  the  . 
hotels,  and  in  the  rural  districts  ^erever  any  least  m-  ' 
formation  was  to  be  gathered,  were  their  representatives — 
to  see,  to  listen,  to  prv.  Out  of  this  contest  they  were 
gaining  prestige  and  casn.  By  them  were  the  reform  alder- 
men persuaded  to  call  mass-meetings  in  their  respective 
districts.  Property-owners  were  urged  to  organize;  a  com- 
mittee of  one  hundred  prominoit  citizens  led  by  Hand 
and  Schryhart  was  formed.  It  was  not  long  before  the 
halls,  chambers,  and  committee-rooms  of  the  capitol  at 
Springfield  and  the  cmrridors  of  the  one  prindpai  hoed  wen 
being  tramped  over  almost  daily  by  rampant  delegations 
of  ministers,  reform  aldermen,  ana  civil  comr  itte''4nen. 
who  arrived  speechifying,  threatening,  and  harau^ia^^  tti- 
departed,  <mly  to  make  room  for  another  reUjr. 

514 


A  MARAUDER 

.  "Say,  what  do  you  think  of  these  delegatioiit,  Senatorr 
mquind  a  certain  Representative  Greenough  of  Senator 
f5,L*"*"'  Grundy,  one  morning,  the  while  a 
group  of  Chicago  clergymen  accompaaied  by  the  mayor 
several  distinguished  private  cirizens  passed  through 
the  rotmida  on  their  way  to  the  committee  on  railroads, 
where  the  house  bill  was  privily  being  discussed.  "Don't 
you  think  they  speak  weU/or  our  avic  pride  and  moral 
iipbnngmg?'  He  nu^d  hit  eyes  and  crossed  his  fingers 
over  his  wawtQoaMojtki j^KMC  nacdaiaaioat  and  rama- 
tial  attitude. 

**yk»,  dear  Pastor,"  repli"e2h^ irreverent  Chrisrian, 
without  the  shadow  of  a  smile.  He  was  a  Kttle  sallow,  wiiy 
man  with  eyes  like  a  ferret,  a  small  musuche  and  goatee 
ornamenting  his  face.  "But  do  not  fbiget  thaFthe  Lord 
naj^^called  us  also  to  this  work." 

Even  so,"  acquiesced  Greenough.  "We  dtaist  not 
weary  in  well  doing.  The  harm  it  truly  plene^  and 
the  laborers  are  few." 

*T"i'»*"''  P^'^  You  might  nuke 

me  larf,  replied  Chnttian;  a-«l  the  twan  parted  widlr 
Knowuw  and  yet  weary  smiles. 

Yet  how  litde  did  the  accommodating  atritude  of  these 
gentlemen  avail  in  silendng  the  newspapers.  The  damn- 
able newspa^rs!  They  were  here,  there,  and  everywhere 
reportmg  each  least  fragment  of  rumor,  conversation,  or 
imaginary  programme.  Never  did  the  ddzens  of  Chicago 
receive  so  keen  a  drilling  in  sutecraft— its  subtleties  and 
ramihcations.  The  president  of  the  senate  and  the  speaker 
ot  the  house  were  singled  out  and  warned  separately  as  to 
their  duty.  A  page  a  day  devoted  to  legishttve  proceeding 
m  this  quarter  was  practicaUy  the  custom  of  the  situation. 
^x^n»erwood  was  here  personally  on  the  scene,  brazen, 
dehant,  l(^cal,  the  courage  of  his  convictions  in  hit  eyes, 
the  power  of  his  magnetism  fairly  enslaving  men.  Throw- 
mg  off  the  mask  of  disinterestedness— if  any  might  be  said 
to  have  covered  him— he  now  frankly  came  out  in  the 
open  and,  journeying  to  Springfield,  took  quarters  at  the 
gnncjpal  hotel.  Like  a  general  in  rime  of  battle,  he  mar- 
•naied  lut  forces  about  him.  In  the  warm,  moonlit  atmos- 
p&ere  of  June  aifhta  when  the  ttfteo  of  S^aagicid  wen 

SIS 


THE  TITAN 


quiet,  the  great  plain  of  Illinois  bathed  for  hundreds  of 
miles  from  north  to  south  in  a  sweet  effulgence  and  the 
nirals  slumberii^  in  their  sim|^  hooMes,  he  nt  oonfmii^ 
with  his  lawyers  and  legislative  agents. 

Pity  in  such  a  crisis  the  poor  country-jake  legislator  torn 
between  his  desire  for  a  justifiable  and  expedient  gain  and 
his  fear  lest  he  should  be  assailed  as  a  betrayer  of  the 
people's  interests.  To  some  of  these  small-town  legislators, 
who  had  never  seen  as  much  as  two  thousand  ooUars  in 
cash  in  all  their  days,  the  probkm  was  wwbn^i^ing.  Men 
nthered  m  private  rooms  and^lBftei  parlors  ta^mcuss  h. 
They  stood  in  their  rooms  at  night  and  thought  about  it 
alone.  The  sight  of  biz  business  compelling  its  desiies  the 
while  die  people  went  oegging  wat  destructive.  Muiy  a 
romantic,  lUusioned,  idealistic  young  country  editor,  law- 
yer, or  statesman  was  here  made  over  into  a  minor  cynic 
or  bribetaker.  Men  were  robbed  of  every  vestige  of  uhdk 
or  even  of  charity;  they  came  to  feel,  perforce,  that  there 
was  nothing  outside  the  capacity  for  taking  and  keepmg. 
The  surface  might  appear  commonplace— ordinary  meH 
the  state  of  Illmois  going  here  ana  there — simple  farmers 
and  small -town  senators  and  representatives  conferring 
and  meditating  and  wondering  what  they  could  do — ^yet  a 
iungle-like  complexity  was  present,  a  dark,  rank  growth  oi 
horrific  but  avid  life— life  at  the  full,  life  knife  in  hand,  life 
Uaitiig  with  courage  and  dripping  at  the  jaws  with  hunger^ 

However,  because  of  the  terrific  uproar  the  more  cautious 
legislators  were  by  degrees  becoming  fearfbl.  Frirads  in 
their  heme  towns,  at  the  instigation  of  the  papers,  were 
beginning  to  write  them.  Political  enemies  were  taking 
heart.  It  meant  too  much  of  a  sacrifice  on  the  part  m 
everybody.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  bait  was  appar- 
ently within  easy  reach,  many  became  evasive  and  dis- 
turbed. When  a  certain  Representative  Sparks,  cocked  and 
primed,  with  the  bill  in  his  pocket,  arose  upon  the  floor  of 
the  house,  asking  leave  to  nave  it  spread  upon  the  fiuiir 
utes,  there  was  an  instant  explosion.  The  privilege  of  ^ 
ftoor  was  requested  by  a  hundred.  Another  representa- 
tive, Disback,  being  in  charge  of  the  opposition  to  Cowper- 
wood,  had  made  a  count  of  noses  and  was  satisfied  in  spite 
of  all  subtlety  on  the  part  of  the  enemy  diat  he  had  at 


A  MARAUDER 

least  one  hundred  and  ti«o  votet,  the  necessary  two.thifdt 
wherewith  to  crush  any  measure  which  might  originate  on 
the  Hoor.  INevertheless,  his  followers,  because  of  caution, 
voted  It  to  a  second  and  a  third  reading.  All  sorts  3 
wnendments  were  made— one  for  a  three-cent  fare  during 
the  niili-hours,  another  for  a  20  per  cent,  tax  on  gross 
receipts.  In  amended  form  the  measure  was  sent  to  the 
senate,  where  the  chances  were  stricken  out  and  the  bill 
once  more  returned  to  ^  house.  Here,  to  Cowperwood's 
chagrin,  siens  were  manifest  that  it  could  not  be 

passed.  'It  can't  htj^t,  Frank,"  said  Judge  Dicken- 
sheets.  Its  too  grilling  a  game.  Their  home  papers  are 
after  them.   Tliey  can't  live." 

Consequently  a  second  measure  was  devised— more 
soothing  and  lulling  to  the  newspapers,  but  far  less  satis- 
tactonr  to  Cowperwood.  It  conferred  upon  the  Chicago 
Cit3^  Coimal.  by  a  tnck  of  revising  the  old  Ho«e  aid 
Uummy  Act  of  1865,  the  nght  to  grant  a  franchise  for  fifty 
mstead  of  for  twenty  years.  This  meant  that  Cowperwood 
wo«ld  have  to  return  to  Chicago  and  fight  out  his  battle 
there  It  was  a  seven:  blow,  yet  better  than  nothing. 
Providing  that  he  could  wm  one  more  franchise  battle 
withm  the  walls  of  the  aty  council  in  Chicago,  it  would  give 
him  all  that  he  desired.  But  could  he?  Ifad  he  not  cmne 
here  to  the  legislature  especially  to  evade  such  a  risk? 
His  motives  were  enduring  such  a  blistering  exposure. 
Yet  perhaps,  after  all,  if  the  price  were  large  enough  the 
Uucago  councilmen  would  have  more  real  courage  than 

these  coimtiy  iegisUtoi»--^d  dare  more.  Th^  would 
have  to. 

So,  after  Heaven  knows  what  desperate  whisperings,  con- 
ferences, arguments,  and  heartemng  of  membera,  there 
0"|»n«ed  a  second  measure  which— after  the  defeat 
ot  the  hrst  bill,  104  to  40— was  introduced,  by  way  of  a 
very  complicated  path,  through  the  judiciary  committee. 
It  was  passed;  and  Governor  Archer,  after  heavy  hours 
ot  contemplation  and  self-examination,  signed  it.  A  little 
?pan  mentally,  he  failed  to  esrimate  an  aroused  popular 
tury  at  its  true  import  to  him.    At  his  elbow  was  (Swper- 

tf,?!^  SV^^""  *".»PPV"«  ^"  finders  in 

the  face  ofhw  eneaues,  showing  by  the  hard,  <KmIu1 

S17 


THE  TITAN 


glint  in  his  eye  that  he  was  ttiU  master  of  the  situation, 
giving  all  assurance  that  he  would  yet  Uve  to  whip  the 
Chicago  papers  into  submission.  Besides,  in  the  event  of 
the  passage  of  the  bill,  Cowperwood  had  promued  to  nnake 
Archer  independently  rich— t  caA  lewud  of  ftve  bundled 
thooNUMl  dMlan. 


r 


CHAPTER  LIX 

CAPITAL  AMD  PUBLIC  ftlOBTt 


BETWEEN  the  passage  on  Tune  5, 1897, of  tbe  Mean 
.y»,—w.c^st«ed  after  the  doughty  representative 
who  lad  received  a  small  fortune  for  mtroducing  it— and 
Its  presentation  to  the  Chicago  City  Coune^in  December 

•>ro«lings,  plottings,  poUtickings, 
and  editonahzings  on  the  partoTall  and  sundriT  In  spftc 
of  the  mtense  feeling  of  opposition  to  Cowperw^  theie 

i?!™'  '"  H  P"*»"*=  of 
commercial  and  phlegmatic  substance  that  could  not  view 

him  m  an  altogether  unfavorable  light.  They  were  in 
businws  themselves.  His  lines  passed  their  doors  and 
seived  them.  Thev  could  not  see  wherein  his  stieet-rafl- 
W  service  differed  so  much  from  that  which  others  might 
t  A'   J  ?  ^P.^      materialist  who  in  Cowi^r- 

wood  s  defiance  saw  a  justification  of  his  own  mat£al 

AHf"  But  as  against 

thwe  there  were  the  preachers— poor  wind-blown  sticks  of 
unreason  who  saw  only  what  the  current  palaver  seemed 

anarchists,  socialists, 
single-taxers,  and  pubhc-ownership  advocates.  There  were 
the  very  poor  who  saw  in  Cowperwood's  wealth  and  in  the 
^biUous  stones  of  his  New  Vork  home  and  of  his  art- 
coUection  a  heartless  exploitation  of  their  needs.  At  this 
time  the  feeling  was  spreading  broadcast  in  America  that 
great  pohtical  and  economic  changes  were  at  hand— that 
the  tyranny  of  iron  n  asters  at  the  top  was  to  give  way  to 

lAnurT  ^''PP'"''  ^'V^'  ^'"^        A  national 

eight-hour-day  law  was  being  advocated,  and  the  public 
om^rship  of  public  franchise..  And  here  now  w«  aCaJ 
Mfl'ki  r*''  <^on>oration,  serving  a  population  of  a  mfllion 
and  a  half,  occupying  streets  which  the  people  thenuelvei 

519 


THE  TITAN 


created  by  their  presence,  taking  toll  from  all  these  humble 
citizens^  to  the  amount  of  sixteen  or  eighteen  millions  of 
dollars  in  the  year  and  giving  in  return,  so  the  papers  said» 
poor  service,  shabby  cars,  no  seats  at  rush-hours,  no  uni- 
versal transfers  (as  a  matter  of  fact,  there  were  in  operation 
three  hundred  and  sixty-two  separate  transfer  points)  and  no 
adequate  tax  on  the  immense  sums  earned.  The  working- 
man  who  read  this  by  gas  or  lamp  light  in  the  kitdien  «r 
parlor  of  his  shabby  flat  or  cottage,  and  who  read  also  in 
other  sections  of  his  paper  of  die  free,  reckless,  glorioiu 
lives  of  the  rich,  felt  himself  to  be  defrauded  of  a  portion 
of  his  rij^htful  inheritance.   It  was  all  a  question  of  com- 

Eelling  Frank  A.  Cowperwood  to  do  his  duty  bv  Chicago, 
le  must  not  again  be  allowed  to  bribe  the  aldermen;  ne 
must  not  be  allowed  to  have  a  fifty-year  franchise,  the 
privilege  of  granting  which  he  had  already  bought  from  the 
state  li^slature  by  the  degradation  of  honest  men.  He 
must  be  made  to  succumb,  to  yield  to  the  forces  of  law  and 
order.  It  was  claimed — and  with  a  justice  of  which  those 
who  made  the  charge  were  by  no  means  fully  aware — ^that 
the  Mears  bill  had  been  put  through  the  house  and  sen^iee 
hj  the  use  of  cold  cash,  profFered  even  to  the  goveralnr 
himself.  No  legal  proof  of  this  was  obtainable,  but  Cowper- 
wood was  assumed  to  be  a  briber  on  a  giant  scale.  By  the 
newspaper  cartoons  he  was  representra  as  a  pirate  conk 
manaer  ordering  his  men  to  scuttle  another  vessel — the  ship 
of  Public  Rights.  He  was  pictured  as  a  thief,  a  black  mask 
over  his  eyes,  and  as  a  seducer,  throttling  Chicago,  the  fair 
maiden,  while  he  stole  her  purse.  The  ^me  of  this  battle 
was  by  now  becoming  world-wide.  In  Montreal,  in  Cape 
Town,  in  Buenos  Ayres  and  Melbourne,  in  London  and 
Paris,  men  were  reading  of  this  singular  struggle.  At  last, 
and  truly,  he  was  a  national  and  international  figure.  His 
original  dream,  however,  modified  by  circumstances,  had 
literally  been  fulfilled. 

Meanwhile  be  it  admitted  that  the  local  elements  in 
finance  which  had  brought  about  this  terrific  onslaught  on 
Cowperwood  were  not  a  little  disturbed  as  to  the  eventual 
character  of  the  child  of  their  own  crearion.  Here  at  last 
was  a  public  opinion  definitely  inimical  to  Cowperwood; 
but  here  also  were  they  themselves,  tremendous  profit- 

520 


CAPITAL  AND  PUBLIC  RIGHTS 

*  i""  ^^^^  '^^o"  a»  Cowperwood 

Aiinteif  had  exacted,  deliberately  setting  out  to  kill  the 
goose  that  could  la^  the  golden  egg.  Men  such  as  Haeckel- 
heimer,  Cjotloeb,  Fishel,  tremendous  capitalists  in  the  East 
ana  toremott  in  the  directorates  of  huge  transcontinental 
ftnM^mtemational  banking-houses,  and  the  h'ke,  were 
amaed  that  the  newspapera  and  the  anti-Cowperwood 
d«iii»t  should  hMYt  gone  »  far  in  Chicago.  Had  they  no 
respect  for  capital?  Did  they  not  know  that  iong.ttme 
franchises  were  practically  the  basis  of  aU  modem  capital- 
istic prospenty?  Such  theonet  as  were  now  being  advo- 
cated  here  would  spread  to  other  cities  unless  checked. 
America  might  readily  become  antiKaipitalittic-jociaUstic. 
^  whi??*  *•  ■  theoiy— and 

H.*15"if        "^"^  ^^"^  foolish,"  obwnred  Mr. 

Haeckelheimer  at  one  time  to  Mr.  Fishel,  of  Fiiliel,  Stone 
«  aymons.     I  can  t  see  that  Mr.  Cowperwood  is  differ- 

ZlflUT       J       ^JF*"'!?? W«  seems  to  me 
perfec-l  v  joundandabfe.  All  his  companies  pay.  There  are 
no  better  mvestmoits  than  the  North  and  West  Chicago 
railways.     It  would  be  advisable,  in  my  judgment,  that 
all  the  lines  out  there  should  be  consolidated  and  be  put 
m  his  charge.    He  would  make  money  for  the  stockholdm. 
He  seems  to  know  how  to  run  street-railways." 
Mr  H  ^Tiu'-  ^^P"ed  Mr.  Fishel,  as  smug  and  whire  as 
Mr.  Haeckelheimer,  and  m  thorough  sympathy  with  hin 
point  of  view,  "I  have  been  thinSng  of  something  like 
that  myself.    All  this  quarreling  should  be  hushed  up. 
Its  very  bad  for  business— very.    Once  they  get  that 
pubhc^wnership  nonsense  started,  it       be  haid  to  stop. 

i2*     *      "       much  of  it  already.'' 

Mr.  Fishel  was  stout  and  round  like  Mr.  Haeckelheimer. 
but  much  smaller.  He  was  little  more  than  a  walking  math- 
ematical formula.  In  his  cranium  were  financial  theorems 
and  syllogisms  of  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  power  only. 

And  now  behold  a  new  trend  of  affairs.  IVfr.  Timothy 
Arneel,  atticked  by  pneumonia,  dies  and  leaves  his  holdings  in 
hj^'ISS"  "i^^  ?  his  eldest  son,  Edward  Arneel.  Mr.  Fishel 
and  Mr.  haeckelheimer,  through  agents  and  then  direct, 
approach  Mr.  Merrill  in  behalf  of  Cowperwood.  There 


THE  TITAN 

it  much  talk  of  profits — bow  much  more  profitable  has  been 
die  Cbwperwood  regime  over  street-railway  Incs  than  ^ac 

of  Mr.  Schryhart.   Mr.  Fishel  is  .'.Meresied  in  allaying 
socialistic  excitement.    So,  by  this  ti.'oe,  is  Mr.  Merrill. 
Directly  hereafter  Mr.  HaMkelheinier  approaches  Mr. 
Edwara  Ameel,  who  is  not  nearly  sc»  firct  fui  as  his  father, 
though  he  would  like  to  be  so.   He  Strang.:  to  relate,  has 
come  rather  to  admire  Cowpcrwood  and  tfes  uo  advantage 
in  a  policy  that  can  only  tend  to  nTi-ici!  !  ze  loca"  lines. 
Mr.  Mernll,  for  Mr.  Fishel,  approachrs  Mr.  Hand.  "  Never! 
never!  never!"  says  Hand.  Mr.  Haeckdheimer  approaches 
Mr.  Hand.  "Never!  neverl  never!  To  the  devii  with  Mr. 
Cowperwood!"    But  as  a  final  emissary  for  Mr.  HswctEci- 
heimer  and  Mr.  Fishel  there  now  appears  Mr.  MorgMi 
Frankhauser,  the  partner  of  Mr.  Huid  in  a  seveii  millwp- 
dollar  trsKtkm  scheme  in  Minneapolis  and  St.  Paid, 
will  Mr.  Hand  be  so  persistent?   Why  pursue  a  scheme 
of  reyeoce  which  only  stirs  up  the  masses  and  makes 
nmmidi^  o^mership  a  valid  political  idea,  thus  distui^ng 
capital  elsewhere?   Why  not  trade  his  Chicago  holdings  to 
hwi,  Frankhauser,  for  Pittsburg  traction  stock — share  and 
^are  alike— and  diai        Cowpcfwood  all  Im  pleasn  onl 
the  outside  ? 

Mr.  Hand,  puzzled,  astounded,  scratching  his  round  head, 
slaps  a  heavy  hand  on  his  desk.  "Never!"  he  exclaims. 
"Never,  by  God — as  ong  as  I  am  alive  and  in  C  iicago!" 
And  then  he  yielJs.  .ife  does  shifty  things,  he  is  forn  d  to 
reflect  in  a  most  p  wzy.   Never  would  he  have 

believed  it!  "Schr  lart,"  he  declared  to  Frankhauser, 
"will  never  come  in.  He  will  die  first.  Poor  dd  TtnMwhy 
— if  he  were  alive — 1  e  wouldn't  either." 

"Lea\4;  Mr.  Schryhart  out  of  it,  for  Heavoi's  sake,' 
pleaded  Mr.  Frankhauser,  a  genial  American  Gacmmu 
"Haven't  I  troubles  enough?" 

Mr.  Schryhart  is  enraged.    Never!  never!  never!  He 
will  sell  out  first — but  he  is  in  a  minority,  and  Mr.  Frank 
nauser,  for  Mr.  Fisbel  or  Mr.  Hacckdkcimrr,  wiU  gladly  take 
his  holdings. 

Now  behold  in  the  autumn  of  1897  all  rival  CUea^ 
street-railway  lines  brought  to  Mr  Cowperwood  esi  a 
platter,  as  it  were — a  golden  plattei. 

52a 


CAPITAL  AND  rUBLIC  RIGHTS 

3^  ^^^"^^        *«ntiaH   dedarad  Mr.  Gbdecb 

to  Mr.  Cowperwood,  over  .,n  exctiient  dmr  m  the  sacred 
pfvemets  of  the  Metropolitan  Oub  n  Ntm  York.  Time, 
8  7o  P.M.  Wine— sp.  rkline  'unrmd- .  '  A  tdegram  com* 
sb  ssr  ro-day  f n  m  Frankhauser.  A  nicr  rQ„)  4^. 
«h<MMdf  meet  him  some-lme.  ^^ant— 4j€  seib  o.,t  h»s  stock 
to  P  rankh.iuser.  Mr-  unf  waH  ^-m^w^  vit  Uf. 
Ve  hantle  fferyt  .ng  >  dem  Mr  %t  Mi  lidF  hit 
tnends  pick  ip  all  dt  b.  i  shares  he  c»,  uTt  m  dees  tree 
ve  control  dc  boar  Sc  ryhart  na  ou  Hfe  he  ^  1 
Venr^oot.  1  doj  t  subbosi  >t  •«  mv  p 
any.   It  all  luntges  b=>w  on  vte^r  you  wt  fh  . 

v««r-franchite  ordma-re    roo       -i^  or  n 

Haeckelh«mer  r-ss  hr  pref  s  you  J  »t  s  to  run  t'init&. 
HeviUleefever  nk  po.  -ly  in^M-hamus.  FrankhauMT 
sws  de  same.  ot  F  .c*  Ihr  r  sess  he  doess.  Now 
defeyoaarc.   It  s  uo     yc  ..        ^  you  much  choy.  It 

2  nV  2- o  '       ^  ^«  newspapers,  unt  you 

still  half  Ha^ir  unt  S.  nryhart  ^t^aiast  vou.  Mr.  Haeckel- 
heimer  askt  ne  tc  ly  his  cor  Umends  to  you  unt  to  say 
V|ll  you  dme  v-  h,  next  -  ir  — IJ  Hi  fall  nt  yOO-- 
vicheirer  is&  aiost  coaven  »n  j.** 

In  '^  mayor's  diair  o?  ^-^^api  a  nis  time  sat  a  man 
nam*    WaWen  H.  Lucas      ^si  tMn  ^-e«ht,  he  was  polit- 

aH>  ambrions.  hm  tii*  elemqws  of  popularity— the 
*nadcor  iuckoffixr  ^ubli  ittentjon.  A  fine,  upstanding, 
iie^  oim-  ucl  "  was,  subtle,  vigorous,  a  cool,  direct, 
praci  chin,  an  speaker,  an  eager  enigmatic  dreamer 
ot  gre  >otocai  hon«B  so  cf  e,  anxious  to  play  lis  <  arda 
lUst  ng.  to  Tiake  ftier  h  tr  oe  the  pride  of  the  righteous, 
and  yet  01  too  >misHig  foe  of  the  wicked, 

in  short,  ^  jOU^M,  i  Western  Machiavelli,  and 

^  wio  cotdd,     he  cF  ^    *rve  the  cause  of  the  anti- 
-Wjjperwnod  stru^le  excecG  igly  well  mdeed. 

J-owpenvood,  disturbed,  visits  the  mayor  in  his  office. 
T  ,  ^J-  ^"^^  ™«  "L «  you  personaUy  want?   What  can 
**    *^  politieal  pfefemietit  you  am 

Gowpctwood,  there  isn't  a^rthing  you  can  do  for 
&    Y  on  4o  aot  imdawtand  me,  a«i  I 

5»3 


THE  TITAN 

you.  You  canom  tmdcntaad  me  becauae  I  sin  an  honest 

man." 

*'Ye  godsl"  replied  Cowperwood.  "This  is  cer':ainly  a 
case  of  self-esteem  and  ereat  knowledge.    Good  afternoon." 

Shortly  thereafter  the  mayor  was  approached  by  one 
Mr.  Carlcer,  who  was  the  shrewd,  cold,  and  yet  magnetic 
leader  of  Dnnocracy  in  the  tUfie  of  New  York.  Said 
Carker: 

"You  see,  Mr.  Lucas,  the  great  money  houses  of  the 
East  are  interested  in  this  local  contest  here  in  Chicago. 
For  example,  Haeckelheimer,  Gotloeb  &  Co.  would  like  to 
see  a  consolidation  of  aH  the  lines  on  a  basis  that  will 
make  them  an  attractive  investment  for  buyers  generally 
and  will  at  l!ie  same  time  be  fair  and  right  to  t!>e  cky. 
A  twenty-year  contract  is  much  too  short  a  term  in  their 
eves.  Fifqr  is  the  least  they  could  comfortably  content 
mate,  and  diey  would  prefer  a  hundred.  It  is  little  enough 
for  so  great^an  outlay.  The  policy  now  being  pursued 
here  can  lead  only  to  the  public  ownership  of  public  utili* 
ttts,  and  that  is  something  which  the  national  Democratic^ 
party  at  large  can  certainly  not  afford  to  advocate  at  pres- 
ent. It  would  antagonize  the  money  element  from  coast  to 
coast.  Any  man  WMse  political  record  was  definitely  identi- 
fied with  such  a  movement  would  have  no  possible  chance 
at  even  a  state  nomination,  let  alone  a  national  one.  He 
could  never  be  efected.   I  make  m:raelf  dear,  do  I  notf^ 

';You  do." 

"A  man  can  just  as  easily  be  taken  from  the  mayor's 
office  in  Chicago  as  from  the  governor's  office  at  Spring- 
field," Dursued  Mr.  Carker.  "Mr.  Haeckelheimer  and  Mr. 
Ftshd  nave  personally  asked  nie  to  call  on  you.  If  you 
want  to  be  mayor  of  Chicago  again  for  two  years  or  governor 
next  year,  until  the  time  for  picking  a  candidate  for  the 
Presidency  arrives,  suit  3rottrsMf.  In  the  mean  rime  yon 
will  be  unwise,  in  my  judgment,  to  saddle  yourself  with  this 
public-ownership  idea.  The  newspapers  in  fighting  Mr. 
Cowperwood  have  raised  an  issue  whick  never  movM  have 
been  raised." 

After  Mr.  Carker's  departure,  arrived  Mr.  Edward 
Ameel,  of  local  renown,  and  then  Mr.  Jacob  Bethal,  the 
DHaoemdc  leader  in  San  Francisco,  both  offering  si^gM- 


CAPITAL  AND  PUBLIC  RIGHTS 

dons  which  if  followed  might  result  in  mutual  support 
Tlwre  were  m  addmon  delegations  of  powerful  RepubKi 
(torn  Mmneapoht  and  from  Philadelpiiia.  Even  5ic  S 
dent  of  the  Lake  City  Bank  and  *the  president 
Pnune  Nationd-<)nce  anti-Cowperwood-arrived  to  saJ 
what  had  already  been  said.  Soft  went.  mJ!  LucS  wm 
Swni  ?  A  H'tical  career  was  surely  .  difficuk 

thijg  to  effect.  \Vould  It  pay  to  hany  Mr.  Cowperwood  as 
be  hjrf  .et  out  to  do?  Would  a  steadfast  policy 
Ae  cause  of  the  people  get  him  anywhere?  Would  thef 
be  grateful  ?  Would  they  remember?  Suppose  the  cu™J 
policy  of  the  newspapers,  should  be  modiS^zs  Mn  Ca^S 
had  suggested  that  it  might  be.  What^aUw  «^  tmSf 
politics  really  were!  »ngie 

"Well,  Bessie,"  he  tnquirea  of  his  handsome,  healthv 
semi-blonde  wrfe.  one  evoung.  "what  woSd^dJ  tf 

Z  °  ^"^^r  '^^"^ly  .'^ent,  and  proud  of  her  hus- 
kind  s  position  and  future.   He  had  fomed  the  habit 

to «S+i' "  T^*"r'"       '^P'ied.   "You've  got 

s?df^,J^K  'f'T^tomeasthoughthewiMS 
side  was  with  the  people  this  time.   I  don't  see  haw^St 

Si'T"       'i"^  "^'^  they've  done^YoS 

infJr  .1  P"*»''<=  ownership  or  anythiw 

unft^ir  to  the  money  element,  but  just  the  same  iT srijf 

f«„I-  ''^T  P*^  *1,°^>'  something  and  get  their 

franchise  without  bnCery.   Thev  can't  do  Tesa  th«  £zl 

IL       u  you've  Begun  on.   You  can't  «t 

along  without  the  ocpple.  Wall/  You  just  must  ha^^ 
them.  If  you  lose  their  good  wSir  the  iwBtLuie  dSt 
you  much,  nor  anybody  else."  on  t  neip 

Plainly  there  were  times  when  the  people  had  to  be 
considered.  They  just      to  bel  «««  ro  oe 


CHAPTER  LX 


THE  NET 

THE  storm  which  burst  in  connection  with  Cowper- 
wood's  machinations  at  Springfield  early  in  1897, 
and  continued  without  abating  until  the  following  fall, 
attracted  such  general  attention  that  it  was  largely  reported 
in  the  Eastern  papers.   F.  A.  Q)wperwood  versus  the  state 
of  Illinois— thus  one  New  York  daily  phrased  the  situati<Hi. 
The  magnetizing  power  of  fame  is  great.   Who  can  resist 
utterty  uie  luster  that  lurrounds  the  individualities  of  some 
men,  causing  them  to  glow  with  a  separate  and  special 
dHFulgence?   Even  in  the  case  of  Berenice  this  was  rm 
without  its  value.    In  a  Chicago  paper  which  she  found 
lying  one  day  on  a  desk  which  Cowperwood  had  occupied 
was  an  extended  editorial  which  interested  her  greatly. 
After  reciting  his  various  misdeeds,  particularly  m  con- 
nection with  the  present  state  legislature,  it  went  on  to 
say:  "He  has  an  innate,  chronic,  unconquerable  contempt 
for  the  rank  and  file.    Men  are  but  slaves  and  thralls  to 
draw  for  him  the  chariot  of  his  greatness.  Never  in  all  his 
history  has  he  seen  fit  to  go  to  the  people  direct  for  anything. 
In  Philadelphia,  when  he  wanted  public-franchise  control, 
he  sought  privily  and  by  chicane  to  arrange  his  affairs  with 
a  venal  city  treasurer.   In  Chicago  he  has  uniformly  sought 
to  buy  and  convert  to  his  own  use  the  splendid  privileges 
of  the  city,  which  should  really  redound  to  the  benent,of 
all.    Frank  Algernon  Cowperwood  does  not  believe  in  the 
people;  he  does  not  trust  them.   To  him  they  constitute 
no  more  than  a  field  upon  which  corn  is  to  be  sown,  •nd 
from  which  it  is  to  be  reaped.   They  present  but  a  mass  of 
bent  backs,  their  knees  and  faces  in  the  mire,  oyer  which 
as  over  a  floor  he  strides  to  superiority.    His  private  and 
inmost  faith  is  in  himself  alone  Upon  the  majority  be 


THE  NET 


shuts  the  Mtes  of  his  glory  in  order  that  the  sight  of  their 
misery  and  their  needs  may  not  disturb  nor  alloy  his  selfish 
thrpeopS"  Cowperwood  does  not'^beUeve  in 

This  editorial  battle-cry,  flung  aloft  during  the  latter 
days  of  the  contest  at  Springfield  and  taken  up  by  the 
Chicago  papers  generaUy  and  by  those  elsewhere,  interested 
lierMice  greatly  As  she  thought  of  him-waging  his 
ternfic  contests,  hurrying  to  and  fro  between  New  York 
and  Chicago,  building  his  splendid  mansion,  collecting  his 
pictures, i|Ujm^,,:g^thAileen-*^  came  by  degrees  to^take 
on  die  outlines  of  a  superman,  a  half-god  or  demi-gorgon. 

3 paths  of  men  be  expected  to  control  himr^They  could  not 
fj^lT*'    ^"'^  here  he  was  pursuing  her,  seeking  her 
t  with  his  eyes,  grateful  for  a  smile,  waiting  as  much  as 
he  dared  on  her  every  wish  and  whim.  ^ 

h««  .-r^KLT  'V"'  buried  deep  in  eveiywoman^s 

heart  is  that  her  lover  should  be  a  hero.    Some,  out  of  the 

In'^T^u"^  °/  f^'t'^".       '^^l  befoTUich  they 

•kSr  ^'Jl.i^Jn*"-^  'H*'"**  '■^^"'''y  greatness;  but  m 
«ither  case  the  illusion  of  parag.n-worship  is  maintained. 

Berenice,  by  no  means  ready  to  look  upon  Cowperwood 
tjm''''^^-^^  lover,  was  nevertheless  grarified  that  his 
emng  devotion  was  the  tribute  of  one  able  apparently  to 
command  thought  from  the  whole  worid.   Moreover/ be- 

n^hn^Z  ^'^^^^'^^'^  fire  from  his  greT^ 

struggle  m  the  Middle  West  and  were  charging  him  with 
bnbenr,  perjury,  and  intent  to  thwart  the  will  of  the  dco. 
pie  Cowperwood  now  came  forward  with  an  attemptto 

fn  fcii'/''??  *°  ^r^"i?       *°  i"«'fy  himself 

""l'*'     ^^"^  ^*rter  house  or  in  entr'- 
actes  at  the  opera  cr  *he  theater,  he  recounted  to  her  bit 

fenJ'  J't  T"^  ?«^"*>*^^       characters  of 

Wi^'j        "  motives  of  jealousy  and 

revenge  which  had  icJ  to  their  attack  upon  him  in  Chicago. 

No  human  beine  could  get  anything  through  the  Chicago 
City  Council  wi^ow  paying  for  it?'  he  declared.  "It% 
simnlv  a  <jue8tion  oi  who's  putting  up  the  money."  He 
A^'l*  Leslie  NfacDonald  had  once  ^ried  S 
shake  him  down"  for  fifty  thousand  doUan,  and  how  dw 


THE  TITAN 


newspapers  had  since  found  it  possible  to  make  money,  to 
increase  their  circulation,  by  attacking  him.  He  frankly 
admitted  the  fact  of  his  social  ostracism,  attributing  it 
partially  to  Aileen's  deficiencies  anu  partially  to  his  own 
attitude  of  PromvtlMan  defiance,  ^raich  had  never  ytt 
brooked  defeat. 

"And  I  will  defeat  them  now,"  he  said,  solemnly,  to 
Beraiice  mie  day  over  a  Iimcheon-table  at  the  naza  when 
the  room  was  nearly  empty.  His  gray  eyes  were  a  study 
in  cdossal  enigmatic  spirit.  "The  governor  hasn't  signed 
my  fifty-year  franchise  bill"  (this  was  before  the  closing 
events  at  Springfield),  "but  he  will  sign  it.  Then  I  have 
one  more  fight  uiead  of  me.  I'm  going  to  combine  all  the 
traffic  lines  out  ther^  under  one  general  system.  I  am 
the  logical  person  to  provide  it.  Later  on,  if  public  owmt- 
ship  ever  arrives,  the  city  can  buy  it." 

''And  then—"  asksd  Bcraaice  sweetly,  flattered  by  Itb 
confidences. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  FU  live  abroad.  You 
don't  seem  to  be  very  mudi  interested  in  me.  I'll  finidi 
my  picture  collection — " 

"But  supposing  you  should  lose?" 

"I  don't  contemplate  losing,"  he  remarked,  coolly. 
"Whatever  happens,  I'll  have  enough  to  live  on.  I'm  a 
little  tired  of  contest." 

He  smiled,  but  Berenice  saw  that  the  thought  of  defeat 
was  a  gray  one.   With  victory  was  his  heart,  and  only  there. 

Owing  to  the  national  publicity  being  riven  to  Cowper- 
wood's  afFairs  at  this  time  the  effect  upon  Berenice  of  these 
conversations  with  him  was  considerable.  At  the  same 
time  another  and  somewhat  sinister  influence  was  working 
in  his  favor.  By  slow  degrees  she  and  her  mother  were 
coming  to  learn  tnat  the  ukra-conservatiyes  of  society  were 
no  longer  willing  to  accept  them.  Berenice  had  become  at 
last  too  individual  a  figure  to  be  overlooked.  At  an  mr 
portant  linidieon  given  oy  the  Harris  Haggertys,  some  five 
months  after  the  Beales  Chadsey  affair,  she  had  been 

Sinted  out  to  Mrs.  Hauerty  by  a  visiting  guest  from 
ncinnati  as  some  one  mm  whom  rumor  was  concerning 
itself.  Mrs.  Haggerty  wrote  to  friends  in  Louisville  for 
information,  and  received  it.   Shortly  after,  at  the  coming- 

SaS 


THE  NET 


h^h^^J^!'*T  Bo'^g?'  Berenice,  who  had 

u  schoolmate,  was  curiously  omitted.  She 

took  sharp  note  of  that.  Subsequently  the  Ha«rertvs 
faded  to  mdude  her,  a.s  they  had  always  d«ne  beS-e  S 
their  generou.  summer  invitations.  Thfe  was  Jrue i£  if 
the  Lanman  Zeiglers  and  the  Lucas  Demmies  No  dSLS 
affront  was  offered;  she  was  dmply  no  loTgTrfnvited 
one  morning  she  read  in  the  Tribum  that  M«:  C«;«.»^i^ 
Batjer  had  sailed  for  Italv.   No  wo^d  of  4i.  £d  iSS^ 

direction  the  tide  was  settii^        ^  "  ™* 

True,  there  were  a  number— the  ultra-smart  of  th*. 

1^  Tabreez:  "Is  SaTrealf;  tn^? 

fn7f «  f  J  cl'  P"P*«*  to  'gnore  these  rumors  just  as 
long  as  I  dare.  She  can  come  here  if  she  can't  to  anvwfci^J 
eke."  Mrs.  Pennington  Druiy:  matof  iw  E^JTl 

Klea  of  the  Haggertys  cutting  her-dull  foobf  Well  £ 

TthouXl,^"'"'  f  S^'"  loni  «  she 

As  though  her  mother's  career  really  affected  herl"^^ 

Nevertheless  in  the  world  of  the^  diFrich-diose  who 

S^J?'  S  PS*'"-**^  conformi^^l-eyS 

soonety,  and  ignorance — Bevy  Fleminff   haVl  k-^Jl" 

^^xo«a  non  ^r^.   How  did  shTtakiXL?  Wife 

of  ofter  SiTteLT^^rr '"•^^  ''^'^^  ^•''^  that  m>  shift 
.Ward  m^ni!?  can  detract  one  jot  from  an 

Zmtl^f^  TT"-^'  ^^t^'y.  individual  know 
tnemseives  from  the  beginning  and  rare  y,  if  ever  douhi- 

^^cin        -^'^  'T^-  loose\bout  theii  niSnin^  Hke  a 
racing,  destructive  tide  m  and  out,  but  they  themselves  are 
l"ke  arock,still,serene,unmoved.   Bevy  Fleming  Wt  h?r^ 
to  be  so  immensely  superior  to  anythingof  whiSi 
part  that  she  could  afl&Kl  to  hold  hSSnmi^ 


THE  TITAN 


Jutt  the  same,  in  order  to  remedy  the  situatkm  she  now 
looked  about  her  with  an  eye  single  to  a  possible  satis- 
factory marriage.  Braxmar  had  gone  for  eood.  He  was 
•omewhere  in  uie  East — in  Chin%  she  heard— his  infatujH 
dm  for  her  apparently  dead.  Kilmer  Dudma  was  gone 
also — snapped  up — an  acquisition  on  the  part  of  one  of 
those  fanulies  who  did  not  now  receive  her.  However,  in  the 
drawing-rooms  iHiere  she  still  appeared — and  what  were 
they  but  marriage  markets?— one  or  two  affairs  did  spring 
up— tentative  approachments  on  the  part  of  scions  of 
wealth.  They  were  destined  to  prove  abortive.  One  of 
these  youths,  Pedro  Ricer  Marcado,  a  Brazilian,  educated 
at  Oxford,  promised  much  for  sincerity  and  feeling  until  he 
learned  that  Berenice  was  poor  in  her  own  right— and 
what  else?  Some  one  had  whispered  something  in  his  ear. 
Aeain  there  was  a  certain  William  Drake  Bowdoin,  the  son 
of  a  famous  old  family,  who  lived  tm  dw  north  sid4  of 
Washington  Square.  After  a  bali,  a  morning  musicale,  imd 
one  other  affair  at  which  they  met  Bowdoin  took  Bereilice 
to  see  his  mother  and  sister,  who  were  charmed.  "Oh,  you 
serene  divinityl"  he  said  to  her,  ecstatically,  one  dfay. 
"Wcm't  you  many  me?^  Bevy  looked  at  hnn  and  wop- 
dered.  'Let  us  wait  just  a  little  longer,  my  dear,"  she 
counseled.  "I  want  you  to  be  sure  that  you  really  lom 
me."  Shortly  thmatter,  meetins  an  cM  danmste  «t  i 
club,  Bowdoin  was  ereeted  as  follows: 

"Look  here,  Bowdoin.  Ygu're  a  friend  of  mine.   I  see 
you  with  dl«t  MiM  Fleming.   Now,  I  don't  know  how  far  N 
things  have  gone,  and  I  doi?t  want  to  intrude,  but  an  you 
sure  you  are  aware  of  all  the  aspects  of  the  case  7*^ 

"What  do  you  mamf  demindtd  Btmiom,  **l  want 
you  to  speak  out." 

"Oh,  pardon,  old  man.  No  offense,  really.  You  know 
me.  I  couldn't.  College — and  all  that.  Just  this,  though, 
before  you  go  any  further.  Inquire  about.  You  may  hear 
things.  If  they're  true  you  ought  to  know.  If  not,  the 
talkmg  ought  to  stop,  in  'm  w  ong  call  on  me  for  amends. 
I  hear  talk,  I  tell  you.  Best  inteDtiims  in  the  m>rid,  dd 
man.   I  do  assure  you." 

More  inquiries.  The  tongues  of  ^tkmn  and  envy. 
Mr.  Bowdoin  was  sure  to  inherit  three  n^Ekmaoftus.  Thai 


THE  NET 

ajray  necessary  trip  to  somewhere,  and  Berenice  stared  at 
fc^f  "  What  were  peoplJVaJ^ 

n«  ^^'^  Still,  she  might  havi 

Thl  ^  5  n  ^  ^^^^  of  him- 

«,»*.V.  5^?-  r  I*"  •'V'  ™  '^'»o"y  depressing.  Enig> 
matic,  disdamful,  with  a  touch  of  melancholy  and  a  world 

tteT"  Berenice  hearf  at  tiroes  behhidToy 

n\cV^  mothers  error  not  so  inexpUcable 
fiZW  ?^  "  »h«  not.  after  aU,  pieserlM  henelf  Snd  her 
nf^^K  °  luperiority ?  Beaur^was 

g  8ubh  substance  as  dreams  are  mSe  of,  ^^d  aa  fleJtfel 
NWone^s  self  alonc-one'.  inmort  worth,  the  s%dS^5f 
Si  «r  ^r'^''"^         thoiM-otme.  Wealth.*^the  pret- 
S3    idi!;- ^  "^ri*^      acddent-w^re  umoU 
unt.   Berenice  s  hp  curied.   But  life  could  be  Uved.  One 

,?7n;i  VfV**'  T'^i-.  Y?"^  "  optimittic  and  SreniS! 
m  apite  of  her  splendid  mind,  was  so  young.  She  saw  lig 
game,  a  good  chance,  that  coul/  beflayed  in  mwy 

dul[!^ell  J[  »o«^^  was  so  finicky,  if  men  were  so 

l^veWe  Kf5!!lJ"  she  could  do.   She  must 

»>/r-wd  BKmey  wouTd  help  some  to  that  end. 
to  her.  K '  ^^f^ood  by  degrees  was  becoming  attractive 


CHAPTER  LXI 


THB  CATAOLTni 

AND  turn  at  last  Chicago  is  ndfyhdm^t^b^Mant,  ^idi 
/\  it  has  most  feared.  A  giant  monopoly  is  really  reach- 
ing out  to  enfold  it  with  an  octo>pus-Iike  grip.  And  Cowper- 
wiM»d  it  its  eyes,  its  tentacles,  its  force!  Embedded  in  the 

8 'ant  strength  and  good  will  of  Haeckelheimer,  Gotloeb  & 
0.,  he  is  like  a  monument  based  on  a  rock  of  great  strefif^. 
A  fifty-year  franchise,  to  be  delivered  to  him  by  a  major- 
ity pi  forty-eight  out  of  a  total  of  sixty-euht  aldermen  (in 
caac  due  orainance  hat  to  be  passed  over  tne  majror's  ym>)t 
it  til  that  now  stands  between  him  and  the  realization  of 
hit  dreams.  What  a  triumph  for  his  iron  policy  of  cour- 
ase  in  the  face  of  all  obstadesi  What  a  tribute  to  his 
ability  not  to  flinch  in  the  face  of  storm  and  stress!  Other 
men  might  have  abandoned  the  game  long  before,  but 
not  he.  What  a  splendid  windfall  of  chance  that  the 
mcmey  element  should  of  its  own  accord  take  fright  at  the 
Chicaeo  idea  of  the  municipalization  of  public  privilege  and 
should  hand  hhn  ^t  giant  South  Side  system  at  a  icwar^ 
for  his  stem  opposirion  to  fol-de-rol  theories. 

Through  the  influence  of  these  powerful  advocates  he 
was  invited  to  speak  before  various  local  commercial 
boditt — the  Board  of  Real  Estate  Dealers,  the  Property 
Owners'  Association,  the  Merchants'  League,  the  Bankers' 
Union,  and  so  forth,  where  he  had  an  opportunity  to  pres«it 
his  case  and  jusrify  his  cause.  But  the  effect  of  hit  suave 
tpeechifyings  in  these  quartert  was  largely  neutralized  by 
newspaper  denunciation.  "Can  any  good  come  out  of 
Nazareth?"  was  the  r^ular  inquiry.  That  secrion  of  the 
prett  formeriy  beholden  to  Hand  and  Schryhart  ttood  out 
as  bitterly  as  ever;  and  most  of  the  other  newspapers,  b»» 
ing  under  no  obligation  to  Eastern  capital,  felt  it  the  part  of 

5J» 


THE  CATACLYSM 

Tn^^'Tk  °  «"PP°«  ^«  file.   The  most  searching 

and  elaborate  mathematical  examinations  were  conducted 
with  a  view  to  showmg  the  fabulous  profits  of  the  street 
car  trust  »  fature  vear..   The  fin?  hand  of  Eas^m 

nofe'Krr  "^  ir*^"/^  ^"^  J'^"^  motive, 
noised  abroad.    "Milhons  for  eveiybody  in  the  trust  but 

puttuig  It.  Certam  altruists  of  the  community  were  by 
mm  so  aroused  that  m  the  dc»truction  of  Cowpc^rood  theV 

strairf^?anH"3[  ?  humanity.  andTdmocracy 

J3  S    ^  The  heavttis  had  once  more  openr^ 

SSJJbli/oV"  °®n*  mayoi-<oi»titutJda 
pe^  band  of  guerrillas  or  free-booters  who,  like  hungry 
twme  shut  m  a  pen,  were  ready  to  fall  upon  any  and  all 
propositions  brought  to  their  attention  wTth  but  one  end 
ui  yew:  that  the>r  might  eat,  and  eat  heartily.  In  tiSes 
ot  mmt  opportunity  and  contest  for  privilege  life  alwavi 
sinTs  to  Its  lowest  depths  of  materialiL  ani  rises  at^S 

SivL  Z  When  tK 

rSJ^m.  towenng  its  hollows  are  most 

awesome. 


w.Tk  i  ^fi  .V"'^'!;P*"*^'^'  't?  «>"nal  assembled,  and 
r«  .     £"f  i'^^  >ir  of  thi  city 

was  touched  by  a  premonition  of  contest.  CowperwrZ 
d«appoi„ted  by  the  outcome  of  his  various  ii^atiatonr 
Ilil^S  u^'^  ^  «liable^Shod  Sf 
fo^^S;  fi^J^^  °"  pnce-twenty  thousand  dollars 
tor  each  favorable  vote,  to  begin  with.  Later,  if  necessary, 
he  would  raise  ,t  to  twenty-gve  thousand,  or  ev^TSirt; 

a  ^SllS.^S^.r'^ ~"  neighborhoSTf 
a  million  and  a  half.  Yet  it  was  a  small  price  indeed  when 
he  ultimate  return  was  considered.   He  planned  to  hatS 
h.s  ordinance  mtroduced  by  an  alderman  nsEnedBallenbei^ 

who  would  read  it,  whereupon  another  henchman  w«S3 
stiLS  ^Illt'  "  ^  •  '^^'^^S^i?  'K^^^^'  committers 

s>?^?s— ^^^^^^ 


THE  TITAN 


ing  up  a  bold  front  Cowperwood  thought  the  necessary 
iron  could  be  put  into  his  followers  to  enable  them  to 

?;o  throueh  witn  the  scorching  ordeal  which  was  rare  to 
bllow.  Already  aldermen  were  being  besieged  at  thdr 
homes  and  in  the  precincts  of  the  ward  dubs  and  meeting 
places.  Their  mail  was  being  packed  with  importuning 
or  threatening  letters.  Their  very  children  were  being 
derided,  their  ne^hbors  urged  to  chastise  them.  Min- 
isters wrote  diem  m  appealing  or  daiunciatory  vein.  They 
were  spied  upon  and  abused  daily  in  the  public  prints. 
The  mayor,  shrewd  son  of  battle  that  he  was,  realizing  that 
he  had  a  whip  of  terror  in  his  hands,  excited  by  the  long 
contest  waged,  and  by  the  smell  of  battle,  wa»  not  back- 
ward in  ursing  the  most  drastic  remedies.  ^ 

"Wak  Ml  the  thing  comes  up,"  he  said  to  his  friends, 
in  a  great  central  music-hall  conference  in  which  thousands 
participated,  and  when  the  matter  of  ways  and  means  to 
defeat  the  i^nal  iddetmen  was  being  discussed.  "We  have 
Mr.  Cowperwood  in  a  comer,  I  thinL  He  cannot  do  ^y- 
thing  for  two  weeks,  once  his  ordinance  ii  in,  and  by  ftat 
time  we  diall  be  able  to  organize  a  vigilance  committee, 
ward  meetings,  marching  dubs,  and  the  like.  We  ought^ 
organize  a  great  central  man-meetiiig  for  the  Sunday  night 
before  the  Monday  when  the  bill  comes  uo  for  final  hearing. 
We  want  overflow  meetings  in  every  ward  at  the  same  time. 
I  tell  you,  gentlemen,  that,  iHitle  I  believe  there  are  enough 
honest  voters  in  the  city  council  to  prevent  the  Cowper- 
wood crowd  from  passing  this  bill  over  my  veto,  yet  I  don't 
diink  die  matter  ought  to  be  allowed  to  go  that  far.  You 
never  can  tell  what  these  rascals  will  do  once  they  see  an 
actual  cash  bid  of  twenty  or  thirty  thousand  dollars  before 
them.  Most  of  them,  even  if  they  were  lucky,  would  never 
make  the  half  of  that  in  a  lifetime.  They  don't  expect  to 
be  returned  to  the  Chicago  Cit^  Council.  Once  is  enough. 
There  are  too  many  others  behmd  them  waiting  to  get  their 
noses  in  the  trough.  Go  into  your  respective  wards  and 
districts  and  organize  meetings.  Call  your  pardctdar 
alderman  before  ^ou.  Don't  let  him  evade  you  or  quibble 
or  stand  on  his  rights  as  a  private  dtizen  or  a  public  offiwr. 
Threaten— dMi't  cude.  &oft  or  Uad  wMda  won't  go 
duK  type  of  man.  llueaten,  and        you  h«ve  naiiaeia 

534 


THE  CATACLYSM 

to  extract  a  promue  be  on  hand  with  ropes  to  see  that 
he  keens  his  word.   I  don't  Kke  to  advise  arfttra^  rSTthods 
but  wSat  else  ,s  to  be  done?   The  enemy 
ready  for  action  right  now.   The/ie  jui  waitini  fora 
peaceful  mo«««.  fct  th4  fiid  it.  Be^rlady 

frS^I'lte        *v  "I  PJ^'i"'  You  hdp  me 

W?J^  »>e»P.you.   You  fight  for  me  an^ITl  fight  for  you." 
<i;rZ^K  discomfiting  situation  of  Mr. 

bimon  Pinski  at  o  p.m.  on  the  second  evening  folkminff 

the  Fourteenth  Ward  Democratic  Qub.   Rotund,  flaVcid 
red-fgced  hit  cottume  a  long  black  frocksaat  j«d  «5k  hit! 

hk^^l  i!^!  called  here  by  ti;reats  to  answer  for 

wt  pMpccuve  high  cnmet  and  misdemeanors.  By  now  it 
riSi;^.?"^  •^"'l^stood  that  nearly  all  thVprS^t 
DalSrrmV  "  in  consequence 

Cr.^r^?ir7'"',.P""',^""y  There  were  no 

loiger  for  the  time  being  Democrats  and  RepuWican^  hut 
onfy  pro  or  ana  ,Cowperwoods-prindpaIbr  a^Mr 

X?iir  ^ as  one  of  those  open  to 
aflvance  questioning  by  his  constituents.  Of  mixed  &h 
and  Amencan  extraction,  he  had  been  bom  and  ralseTin 

cfS?  A  ^*  '^^^V^  laige— sandy-haired, 
shifty-eyed,  cunning,  and  on  mott  occa«<£»  anHaflTjust 

Erhi;  KL'^r^*^^  2*^"^  ^'V-  ar  1  perplexed,-'?" 
he  had  been  brought  here  against  his  will.  rfi.  glighdy 
oleaginous  eye-not  unlike  that  of  a  small  pif-li5K 

tin?,  ^'a'^au^  °"  '^"^  munificent'^^thir^ 

thousand  dollait,  no  less,  and  this  local  agitation  threatened 

His  oS^Ze^'^"  unalienable^right  to  the  same' 

nated      fi.-!^^  »ow-ceiled  room  iUumi- 

3  fmm^Jr  '''i'^         *».t^anned  ga^jets  suspend- 

at  the  back  of  the  room,  surrounded  by  a  wore  or  inS  «f 


THE  TITAN 

his  ward  henchmen,  a"  more  or  less  reliable,  aU  black- 
fiocked,  or  at  least  in  their  Sundav  clothes;  •"^•yjfb 
nervous,  dthnm,  led- faced,  and  fearing  trouble.  Mr. 
Sihasc^meaSied.  This  talk  of  the  mayor;,  concom^ 
suns,  ropes,  drums,  marching  clubs,  and  the  hke  hai  bum 
iive^  veiy  wide  publicity,  and  the  pubhc  seems  rather  eager 
for  a  Chicago  holiday  in  which  the  slaughter  of  an  ai«nn»f 
or  so  mightldmish  tlie  leading  and  moM  «xq>t«ble  feature. 

"Hey  Pinskil"  yells  some  one  out  of  a  small  sea  of  new 
and  decidedly  unfriendly  facefc  fTW*  i«  no  meeanjof 
Pinski  followers,  but  a  conglom««ffe«MtiH»ttTO  of  dl  tlK»e 
dements  of  a  distrait  populace  bent  on  enforcing  for  once 
the  principles  of  aldermanic  decency,  rhere  are  even 
women  here— local  church-members,  and  one  or  two  ad- 
^^^d  civic  reformers  and  W.  C  T.  U  bar-room  «naAe«. 
Mr.  Pinski  has  been  summoned  to  their  presence  bjrtlie 
threat  that  if  he  didn't  come  the  noble  compuir  mnU 
seek  him  out  later  at  his  own  house.) 

"Hey.  Pinskil  You  old  boodkr!.  How  mudh  dojjm 
expect  ro  get  out  of  this  traction  hnsimasr  C*  «•  * 
voice  somewhere  in  the  rear.)  .  »..^^_-^x 

Mr.  Pinski  (tummg  toone  side  as  if  pindied  in  tliene«). 
"The  man  that  says  I  am  a  boodler  is  a  liarl  I  never  took 
a  dishonest  dollar  in  my  hfe,  and  everybody  m  the  four- 
teenth Ward  knows  it."  ««u,! 

Thr  Five  Hundred  PeopU  Assembed.  Ha!  ha!  Hal 
Pinski  never  took  a  dollarl  Ho!>!  ho  Whoop-eel 

Mr.  Pinski  (ycry  red-feced,  rmng).  It  is  so.  Why, 
should  I  talk  to  a  lot  of  loafors  that  rome  here  because 
the  papers  teU  them  to  caU  me  names?  I  have  been  an 
alderman  for  six  years  now.  Evefjrbody  knows  me. 
ji  Voice.  "You  call  us  loafers.  You  crwkl 
Another  Voice  (referring  to  his  statement  of  being  known). 
"You  bet  they  do!"  „  ^        ,     u    •  ,v 

Another  Voice  (this  from  a  small,  bony  plumber  m  work- 
clothes).   "Hey,  you  old  grafter!  Whicli  waydo  you  ex^ 
pecttovote?   For  or  against  this  franchise?   Which  way  r 
Still  Another  Voice  (an  insurance  clerk).    Yes,  which 

^*J&r.  Pinski  (rising  once  more,  for  in  his  nervousness  he 
it  constantly  rising  or  starting  to  nse,  and  then  sitting  down 

5J6 


THl  CATACLYSM 


ajjaui).  I  .havea  nght  tomyownmind,  ain'tl?  I  «>c  a 
nght  to  think.  Wktt  for  am  I  aa  ttei  %! 

conttitution.  .  . 

UM^'jlu^'t**"^'  ^'^»f«n  (a  young  law  derk).  *To 
wk;  r  J  <^°"«»'"t'on'  No  fir  worda  now.  Pin«ki. 
Which  way  do  you  expect  to  vote?  FororafaMtt?  Yc^ 

la;^  ^H^'.^ir  °^  bricklayer.  anti-Pinski).  "He  dam't 
"ow,  nf  be^?"  '    ""^  •  ia  hia  i««a 

nurfS^'ftil  ^'^'^'.J?"'  °f  fiwki's  henchmen-a  heavy. 
?IS5f  "       t  1«  them  frishcoi  you.  SinL 

^^yi  r7  Tuqr  can't  hurt  you.  We'^iS^ 

,"P  <««  mow)-  "Thit  it  an  outrage,  I 
"gT  f  Ain't  I  gen'  to  be  allowed  to  My  what  I  &i 
Ihjfe  are  two  sides  to  every  quesdoa.   Now,  I  dnik 
Whatever  the  newspapers  say  that  Co^^perwood— " 
„^  (^^^P*^  (a  reader  of  the  inqutw). 

you  boodlerr  ^  " 

on  by  voices  from  behind). 
Iwant  to  be  fair-that's  what.   I  want  to  keep  my 
■mid.   The  constitution  gives  eveiybody  the  riit  i  free 

h^ve««iei,ghtt;  « tfce  iMwr  d«e  the  paopb  IwJ^ 

J  Voice.  "What  are  those  rights r 

Another  Voice.  "Or  a  load  of  hay." 

vefb^'  ISiV""?*  ""'T:  defiantfy  now,  since  he  has  not 
Smn!^*.  ^"y««/«>P'ebave  their  rights.  The 

companies  ought  to  be  made  to  pay  a  fair  tax.   But  tlda 

SJ7 


i!  1 


THE  TITAN 

Pinski  (recreatinjs  within  a  defensive  drcie  as  variotu 
citizens  approach  htm,  their  eyes  blazing,  their  teeth  show- 
ing, their  hsts  clenched).  "My  friaidt»waitt  Ain't  I  fon 
to  be  allowed  to  finish?" 

J  Voice.  "We'll  fini-h  yott,  you  stiffl" 

A  CiHun  (advancing;  a  bearded  Pole).  "How  wffl  yoa 
vote,  hey?   Tell  us  thatl   How?  Hey?" 

A  Second  CUixen  (a  Jew).  "You're  a  no-|ood,ymi  robber. 
I  know  you  fiw  ten  ytm  now  already.^  You  chetttd  me 
when  vou  were  in  the  grocery  business."  .  .  „  * 

A  Third  Citizen  (a  Swede.  In  a  sing-song  votce).  An- 
swer me  this,  Mr.  Pinski.  If  a  majority  of  the  citizens  of 
the  Fourteenth  Ward  don't  want  you  to  vote  for  it,  wiU  you 
still  vote  for  it?"  * 

Pinski  (hesitating). 

Tki  Fi»€  Hundred,  "Hoi  look  at  the  scoundrel!  He  s 
afraid  to  saj.  He  don't  know  whether  he'll  do  what  the 
^Ijle  of  thb  ward  want  Urn  to  do.  KiU  himl  Biam 

A  Voice  from  Behind.  "Aw,  stand  up.  Pinski.  Dca*i  be 
afraid." 

Pinski  (terrorized  as  the  five  hundred  make  a  rush  for 
the  stage).  "  If  the  people  don't  want  me  to  do  it,  of  course 
I  won't  do  it.  Why  ahould  I?  Ain't  I  their  repfescttt|p 
tive?"  .       .  .\ 

A  Voice.  "Yes,  when  you  dunk  you'ia  foing  to  get  m 
wadding  kicked  out  of  you." 

Another  Voice.  "You  wouldn't  be  honest  with  your 
mother,  you  bastard.   You  couldn't  bel" 

Pinskt.  "If  one-half  the  voters  should  ask  me  not  to 
do  it  I  wouldn't  do  it."  .... 

A  Voice.  "Well,  we'll  get  the  voters  to  ask  you,  all  right. 
We'll  Mt  nine-tendu  of  them  to  sign  before  to-morrow 
night.'  „ 

An  Irish -American  (aged  twenty-six;  a  gas  collector; 
coming  close  to  Pinski).  "If  you  don't  vote  right  vrell 
hang  you,  and  I'll  be  there  to  help  pull  the  rope  myself. 

One  of  PinskCs  Lieutenants.  "Say,  who  is  that  freshief 
We  want  to  lay  for  hinri.  One  good  kick  in  the  right  place 
will  just  about  finish  him." 

Th*  Gas  ColUttor.  "Not  from  you,  you  carrot-faced 

538 


THE  CATACLYSM 
««5Mi  cat<all«,  cnes  of  "Boodlerl"  " Thief r  '^SSkfJi" 

new  men,  aid  Kr  t^l  ^f  »>'«i- 

auem'^blSg  in  cheap  halL  a'JS"'"*:^"^'? 

drilUng  t4n!dm  to  ^-fpr  club-house.,  and 

duty.  Cown««^     *  lawmakers  that  they  do  thdr 

badge  worn  u^^The^^tlf Jl*of°^^^ 

citiien.  who  .at  roTdli^  thi?^  uential 

PiCMnce  whir?  .S? ^        paper.,  uncon.aou«  of  that 

with  a  frtt  iwoi  w«^«SrSi£f      >«»  device  a  galloWi 


THE  TITAN 

WALDEN  H.  LUCAS 

•tfiiBM  the 

BOO  JO  L  R  R  S 

'-  "   f- 

Every  citixen  of  Chicago  fhould 
come  down  to  the  City  Hall 

TO-NIGHT 
MONDAY,  DEC.  12 

! 

and  every  Monday  night 
thcMsfttf  whik  th«  8wai  ait 
Ffanfihiaaa  are  under  consider- 
ation, and  lee  that  the  intereati 
of  the  city  are  protected  againat 

BOODLEISM 


Citizens,  Arouse  and  Defeat  the  BoodUrsI 

$40 


THE  CATACLYSM 
In  the  papen        ftuing  head-Imet;  in  the  clubs  halls 

were  drank  now  with  a  kind  of  fury  of  contest.  Thev  would 
not  succumb  to  this  Titan  who  wis  b«?«  undSl  diem 

?f  *  ^  to  the  dty  or 

Fll  iSr    ^?  fi%-y~r  franchise  should  be  granted  fem 

we  ottr  oouK^  humble  and  with  dean  hands.  No  alder, 
man  Who  received  as  mudi  as  a  dollar  fcfto^iSS 
in  dus  instance  be  safe  widi  hi.  life.  ^ 
mJS;!?"  ^       th«  in  die  face  of  sudi  a  campaign  of 

SJ^mLf  "  committecscharber 

^  .?uirhe';;srd"/  t^~^^'sS^y 

t««  of  black"JSS?;-rr:SS  «  tL^'^^iiTs^^T^S^- 
"deJtlSS2Jrr'^"l5*  «««oIent'i:rd,SlS„  ^f 
i«r^«S'     ^o™***"**!-   On  this  even  ng  die  four  streets 

hS,  V.SS^fa^^T'^'^^^^  «"  astounSini  figure^ 

theT2r5  .  T'      '^^tt '^on.  h«  intentions  sSisferl 

r^gg^tf^^^^^  ^Sat 

NewS^r^rJ!^*        ^T^P^pn  of  Cowperwood's  house  in 

ofTi^         bluTa7ab^«^^^^  T"^ 

intaglio    He«  A^^'i       finishmgs  of  marble  and 


THE  TITAN 

comforts  piled  about  him.  The  idea  was  vaguely  suggested 
that  in  his  sybaritic  hours  odalesques  danced  before  him 
and  unnamable  indulgences  and  excesses  were  peipetnted. 

At  this  same  hour  in  the  coundl-chamber  itself  were 
assembling  as  hungry  and  bold  a  company  of  gray  wolves 
M  wu  ever  gatherea  under  one  md.  The  room  Imtgtt 
ornamented  to  the  south  by  tall  windows,  its  ceiling  sup- 
porting a  heavy,  intricate  chandtJier,  its  sixty-six  alder- 
IBMUC  desks  arranced  m  half-cifdcs,  one  behind  the  other; 
k»  woodwork  of  Black  oak  carved  and  hi^y  polislwd; 
its  walls  a  dark  Uue-my  deoxated  with  arabeM)iies  in 
gold— ^  us  giving  to  aU  proceeds^  an  air  of  dignity  ami 
statetincM.  Above  the  speahai^s  head  was  an  inHMnaa 
portrait  in  o9  of  a  femer  mayor  poorly  done^  diutft  and 
yet  impressive.  The  size  and  character  of  the  place  gave 
on  ordmaiy  occassona  a  sort  of  reaoaanoe  to  die  voioea  of 
^e  ipeiAaia.  To4U^if  tiirough  tfca  doaed  windhiwf  oouM 
be  heard  the  sound  of  distant  drums  and  mardiing  feet. 
In  the  hall  outside^  the  council  door  were  packed  at  least 
a  thousand  men  with  ropes,  sticks,  a  fife-and-drum  corpa 
which  occasionally  struck  up  "Hail I  Columbia,  Hapny 
Land,"  "  My  Country,  Tis  of  Thee,"  and  "  Dixie."  Alde|w 
nwi  Schlumbohm,  heckled  to  within  an  inch  of  his  lift» 
fcrfkvwed  to  the  council  door  by  three  hundred  of  his  fellow* 
citiaens,  was  these  left  with  tlie  uimonition  that  they  would 
be  waitia|fer  hiaiwIiMilw  AMli«nfc»yiaKic  tiaira* 
at  laae  senouafar  impressed. 

'^at  is  thisr  he  asked  of  hia  neighbor  and  nearest 
aandate,  Aldennan  Ga vegan,  whan  tm  fuaad  tiM  iafii^ 
Of  his  seat.  "A  fret  cwmtryf" 

"Seaidi  owT  replied  hn  commmiui,  wearily.  "I  never 
seen  such  a  band  as  I  have  to  deal  with  out  in  the  Twentieth. 
Whj%  my  GodI  a  nsan  can't  caEhis  name  hia  own  any  more 
one  bate.  It's  fot  s»  Baar  d»aewq»apen  tafl  everybody 
what  to  do." 

Alderman  Pinski  and  Alderman  Hoberkom,  conferring 
tocether  in  one  comer,  were  both  very  dour.  "I'll  tell  yott 
what,  Joe,"  said  Pinski  to  his  confrere:  "it's  this  feflow 
Lucas  that  has  got  the  people  so  stirred  up.  I  didn't  go 
home  last  night  because  I  didn't  want  those  feBows  to 
follow  m»  Aimm  i\mt.  Me  and  my  wife  attyad  4umm  law. 

54* 


THE  CATACLYSM 

Bur  smt  of  the  boys  was  over  here  at  Take's  a  Uttle  while  ato. 
and  ce  says  tbeie  must  V  been  five  hundred  people  around 

ali«idy.  Whad  ve  tUt  o' 
Same  here.  1  don  t  take  much  stock  in  this  lynchint 
Idea.  SjU.  you  can't  telL  I  don't  know  whether  the  polS 
com  help  us  much  or  not.  It'i  a  daamed  outrage.  Q)w- 
perwood  ha.  a  fak  prn>>«tkt  IWtati  At  iSSif^S 
them,  anyhow?" 

wiSSr*'  ^  -Maichiiit  Through  Georgia"  from 

Enter  at  this  time  Aldermen  Ziner,  Knudsoo.  Revere 

SSf 1  Jfemgan  were  as  cool  as  iny. 

StiB  the  spectacle  of  streets  bkxJted  with  people  who  carri^ 
torches  and  wore  badges  »hamia%  iKp  noww^tSSttTa 
""her  senous.  — i™-"  to  a 

^IhrlfKn  •^K'^r^  Mike."  as  they  eventu- 
ally made  the  door  through  throngs  of  jeering  dtarnt:  ^it 
'**^T^^,f Whad^thfnk™^^'  " 
d.  J^ii  '^^K^'^r  Kerrigan,  angnr,  waspish, 

liowr'ehr  *""«^'*»'"»^  Bwittpiiitywaii^aBy. 

hJ  kf;  'il'^*™'  «P*««*  Kerrigan,  suspicious 

I«t  his  companion  in  arms  might  be  wSSulu^^hml 

that  II  never  make  a  quitter  out  of  me." 
Nor  me,  either,"  replied  the  Smiling  Obe. 

J^^^LUST'  ..W''  »ccompanied  by  a  fife-and-drum 
corpe  rendering  "Hail  to  the  Chief."    He  ascend.  »l« 

In^egallenroveriiMd  a  picked  audience.  A.  thWari^ 
gd«m«  look  up  they  contempUte  a  sea  of  unfriends 

taces.     Get  on  to  the  mayor's  guatt."  m  t 

to  another,  cynically.  "  ^ 

Johnme  DowUni,  tl»t  £i(  WondSfaTSk"  iht^Ij 

543 


THE  TITAN 

head;  there's  Pinski — look  at  the  little  rat;  there's  Ker- 
riean.  Get  on  to  the  emerald.  £h,  Pat,  how's  the  jewelry? 
You  won't  get  any  chance  to  do  any  grafting  to^d^it,  Pat. 
You  won't  pass  no  ordinance  to-night." 

Alderman  Winkler  (pro-Cowperwood).  "If  the  chair 
pleases,  I  think  something  ought  to  be  done  to  restore 
order  in  the  sallery  and  keep  these  proceedings  from  being 
disturi)ed.   It  seems  to  me  an  outrage,  that,  <m  an  occasicm 
of  lA&t  kind,  when  the  interests  of  thiie  pe(^  lequim  ^ 
most  careful  attention — ** 
A  Voice.  "The  interests  of  the  people P*  ^ 
Another  Foice.  **S\t  Aovm.   You  re  oought!" 
Alderman  Winkler.  "If  the  chair  pleases—" 
The  Mayor.  "  I  shall  have  to  ask  tne  audience  in  the  gal- 
lery to  keep  quiet  in  order  that  the  business  in  hand  may 
be  cmistderea."   (Applause  and  the  galleiy  lapses  into 
sileiMe.)  1 

Alderman  Gui^  (to  Aldomaa  &iimddgr)«  "W^ 
trained,  eh?" 

Afdernum  BaUenherg  (|Mo>Cowperwood,  getdng  up— 
laise,  brown,  florid,  smooth-faced).  "Before  calling  up  an 
ordinance  which  bears  my  name  I  should  like  to  ask  per- 
mission of  the  council  to  make  a  statement.   When  1 
troduced  this  ordinance  last  week  I  said — **  \ 

A  Voice.   "We  know  what  vou  said."  • 

AUemum  BaUenberg,  "I  said  diat  I  did  so  by  request. 
I  want  to  explain  that  it  was  at  the  request  of  a  number 
of  gentlemen  who  have  since  appeared  before  the  com- 
mittee of  this  council  that  now  has  diis  ordinance — ** 

A  Voice.  "That's  all  right.  Ballenbeig.  We  know  by 
whose  request  you  introduced  it.  You've  said  your  little 
say." 

Alderman  Ballenberi.  "If  the  chair  pleases — ** 
A  Voice.  "Sit  down,  Ballenberg.  Give  some  other 
boodler  a  chance." 

The  Mayor.  "Will  the  gallery  please  stop  interrupting." 
Alderman  Hvranek  (jumping  to  nis  feet).  "This  is  an  out> 
rage.   The  gallery  is  packed  with  people  come  here  to  in- 
timidate us.    Here  is  a  great  public  corporation  that  has 
*  this  city  for  years,  and  served  it  well,  and  when  it 
to  this  body  with  a  sensible  pn^ositioD  we  ua't 
544 


THE  CATACLYSM 

even  allowed  to  consider  it.  The  mayor  packs  the  gaUery 
with  his  fnends,  and  the  papers  stir  up  people  to  come  down 
here  bjr  thousands  and  try  to  frighten  us.   I  for  one—" 

A  Fotee.  "What's  the  matter,  BiUy?  Haven't  you  sot 
your  money  yet?"  /  u 

AbUrman  Hvranrk  (Polish -American,  intelUgcnt,  even 
artistic  lookmfe  shaking  his  fist  at  the  galle^.  "YoS 

to  ha^„g{"^'^  ("^^  "BiUy,  you  ought 

Alderman  Tuman  (rising).  "I  say  now,  Mr.  Mavor 

Mrtle.^*^  *^  ^ If  it  ain»t  Smiling 
^^no/A/r  Foice.  "How  much  do  you  expect  to  get, 

I  ^HfuT!^  Hmw*  (turning  to  gaUery).  "I  want  to  say 
S ™?  **» ^"^^  here  and  talk 
SJS  ^^2[  I "      '^"'•^     "°  «>Pe»  «nd  no  guns. 

AfS^^AwT'  everything  for  the  city-" 

Alderman  Tieman.  "If  it  wasn't  for  the  stieet^cer  inm. 
panie.  we  wouldn't  have  any  dty."         "^w*^  «»- 

of         ^*«*^>'        th*  «w 

^  ro»V/.  ''I  should  say  not." 
^/.irmfln  Tieman.  "I'm  talking  for  compeaMtioii  for 
the  privileges  we  expect  to  give."  tor 

UlLZL'?'*''*'^  talking  for  your  pocket-book." 
«k^«  ^     ^'"If  «  give  a  damn  for  these  cheap 

Mates  and  cowards  in  the  ga  ery.  I  sav  treat  tk^* 
pom^ns  right    They  havf  helped  make^  4"  d^.^ 

A  Chorus  of  Fxfty  Voices.  "Awl  You  WMt  io  ttear 
n«"yfe,t«ir;H^^  You  vote  ^JhJ^t:. 

s9'«JS:ii""tSii^^^  :t:ry"&^^ 

»  545 


THE  TITAN 

word.  "I  don't  see  what  we  can  do^"  said  Alderman 
Pinski  to  Alderman  Hvranek,  his  neighbor.  "It  kwks  to 
me  ai  if  we  nii|^  just  as  well  not  trjr." 

At  this  point  arose  Alderman  Gilleran,  smaD,  pale^  in- 
telligent* anti-Cowperwood.  By  prearrangemcat  he  had 
been  scheduled  to  bring  the  second,  and  as  it  proved,  the 
final  test  of  strength  to  the  issue.  *'If  the  duitr  pleases," 
hesatd,**!  move  diat  Ae  vocs  by  which  dbt  Baliiiiiiheig 
fifty-year  ordinance  was  referred  to  the  joint  committee 
of  streets  and  aUqr*  be  reconsidered,  and  that  instead  it  be 
reforcd  to  the  uumiiuimii  on  dty  hall." 

This  was  a  ocmimittee  that  hitherto  had  always  been 
considered  b^  members  of  council  as  of  the  least  impor- 
tance. Its  piindpal  duties  consisted  in  devising  new  atmci 
for  streets  and  regulating  the  hours  of  city-hall  servants. 
There  were  no  perquisites,  no  graft.  In  a  spirit  of  ribald 
defiance  at  the  organizatioo  of  the  present  session  all  die 
mayor's  friends — the  reformers — those  who  could  not  be 
trusted— had  been  relegated  to  this  committee.  Now  it 
was  proposed  to  take  tnis  ordinance  out  of  the  hands  of 
friends  and  send  it  here,  from  whence  vnqnestionably^k 
would  never  reappear.  The  great  test  had  come. 

Alderman  H<^kom  (mouthpiece  for  his  gangbecause 
the  most  skilful  in  a  padiamentary  sense).  "The  vptt 
caimot  be  reoautdefdL"  He  begms  a  k»g  explanatKMi 
amid  hisses. 

J  Voiet.  "How  much  have  you  got?" 

J  Second  Foiei.  "You've  been  a  boodler  all  your  life." 

Alderman  Hoherkom  (turning  to  the  gallery,  a  light  of 
defiance  in  his  eye).  "You  come  here  to  intimidate  us, 
but  you  can't  do  it.  You're  too  contemptible  to  aotkt.** 

A  Voice.  "You  hear  the  drums,  don't  you?" 

A  Second  Voice.  "Vote  wrong,  Hoberkom,  and  see.  We 
know  you." 

Alderman  Tienmn.  (to  himseU)'    "Say,  that's  pretty 
roueh,  ain't  it?"  ^ 
TheM»y»,  "UoAimvmnM,  The  pobt b not  vsi 

uken." 

Alderman  Guigler  (rising  a  Utde  puziled).  "Do  w»  VOtt 
now  on  the  Gillrnm  resolution  ?" 
A  Voice.  "You  bet  you  do,  and  you  vote  right." 

546 


THE  CATACLYSM 

The  Mayor.  "Yes.  The  clerk  will  call  the  roll." 

The  Clerk  (reading  the  naima,  boginning  with  the  A'«). 
*'Altva*tr  (pro-Cowperwood). 

Alderman  Altoast.   "Yea."   Fear  had  conquered  him. 

JUerman  Tieman  j|to  Aldennan  Kerrigan).  "WeU, 
dwra^s  one  bsbjr  down* 

Alderman  Kerrigan.  "Yep." 

"Ballenbeig?"  (Pro-Cowperwood;  the  man  who  had 
introduced  the  ofnaaee.) 

"Yea." 

Alderman  Tiemsn.  *'Say.  hat  BaUenben  weakened?" 

Alderman  Kmkm,  "It  lookt  that  mgr. 

"Cannar 

"Yea." 

"Fogartyr 

"Yea." 

Alderman  Tieman  (nen^Misly).  "There  goes  Fogarty." 

"Hvranekr 

"Yea." 

AldermeMtienum,  *'And  Hmnekr 

Alderman  Kerrigan  (referring  to  the  courage  of  Ut  col- 
leagues). "It's  coming  out  of  their  hair." 

In  exactly  eighty  eeoMide  the  rail-coH  was  in  and  Cowper- 
wood  htid  lost— 41  to  25.  It  WW  plaiB  tlutc  dw  ywliiMmm 
could  never  be  revived. 


CHAPTER  LXU 


YOU  have  seen»  periiaps,  a  man  whose  heart  was  weighted 
by  a  great  woe.  Y«u  have  seen  the  eye  darken,  the 
soul  fag,  and  the  spirit  congeal  under  the  breath  of  an  icy 
disaster.   At  ten-thirty  of  this  particular  evening  Cow^ 

Eerwood,  sitting  alone  m  the  librar]^  of  his  Michigan  Avenue 
ouse,  was  brought  face  to  face  with  the  fact  tnat  h«  had 
lost.  He  had  built  so  much  on  die  cast  of  diii  iin^  dk. 
It  was  useless  to  say  to  himself  that  he  could  go  into 
the  coundl  a  week  later  with  a  modified  ordinance!  or 
coold  wait  until  die  storm  had  died  out.  He  refuted 
himself  these  consolations.  Already  he  had  batded  to 
long  and  so  vigorously,  bv  every  resource  and  subdtQr 
wjhidi  hit  mind  had  been  able  to  devite.  AH  week  Icmg  oa 
divers  occasions  he  had  stood  in  the  council-chamber  where 
tfa«  committee  had  been  conducting  its  hearings.  Small 
comfort  to  know  duit  by  suits,  injunctions,  appeals,  u|l 
writs  to  intervene  he  could  rie  up  this  transit  situation 
and  leave  it  for  years  and  yean  the  prey  of  lawyers,  the 
detpair  of  the  city,  a  hopeleat  miuldle  which  would  not  be 
unraveled  until  he  and  his  enemies  should  long  be  dead. 
This  contest  had  been  so  long  in  the  brewing,  he  had  gcme 
about  it  with  such  care  years  before.  And  now  the  rnemy 
had  been  heartened  by  a  great  victory.  His  aldeimoi, 
powerful,  hungry,  fighting  men  all-^ke  those  picked  tol- 
diers  of  the  ancient  Roman  emperors — ruthless,  conscience- 
less, as  desperate  as  himself,  had  in  their  last  redoubt  of 
personal  privilege  fallen,  weakened,  yielded.  How  could 
ne  hearten  them  to  another  struggle — how  face  the  blazing 
wrath  of  a  m^ty  populace  thatnad  once  learned  how  to 
wini^  Odters  might  enter  heie — Haeckdheimer,  Fkbd* 
any  one  of  a  half-dozen  Eastern  giants — and  smooth  out 
the  ruffled  surface  of  the  ai^^  tea  that  he  had  blown  to 


THE  RECOMPENSE 

fuiy.  But  ••  fer  hm,  he  wat  dnd,  liek  of  Chicago,  rick 
of  this  interminable  contest.  Only  recently  he  had  prom- 
ised himself  that  if  he  were  to  turn  this  great  trick  he  would 
never  again  attempt  anything  to  desperate  or  requiring  fO 
OMich  effort.  He  would  not  need  to.  The  size  <^  his 
fortune  made  it  of  little  worth.  Berides»  in  spite  dP  hie 
tremendous  vigor,  he  was  getting  on. 

Since  he  had  alienated  Aileen  he  was  quite  alone,  out 
of  touch  with  any  one  identified  with  the  earlier  years  of 
his  life.  His  ali-desired  Berenice  still  evaded  him.  True» 
she  had  shown  lately  a  kind  of  wanning  sympathy;  but 
was  itf  Gracious  tolerance,  perhaps — a  sense  of 
oblintion?  Certainly  little  more,  he  felt.  He  looked  into 
the  future,  decidiiu  heavily  that  he  must  fight  oiv  «lui»> 
ever  happened,  and  then — 

While  he  sat  thus  drearily  pondering,  answering  a  tele- 
ohoae  call  now  and  then,  the  dooivbeU  rang  and  the  servant 
brought  a  card  whidi  he  said  had  been  pretented  by  a  younj; 
woman  who  declared  that  it  would  bring  immediate  recogni- 
Chancing  at  it,  Cowperwood  jumped  to  hit  fieet  and 
iMnied  dowu-futrs  into  the  eoe  preaence  he  moat  cnTed. 

There  are  compromises  of  the  spirit  too  elusive  and  suh- 
«e  to  be  traced  in  all  their  involute  windings.  From  diat 
nrhest  day  when  Berenice  Fleming  had  first  set  eyes  on 
Cowperwood  she  had  been  moved  by  a  sense  of  power,  an 
amazing  and  fascinating  individuality.  Since  then  by 
A^jf**  familiarized  her  with  a  thought  of  individual 

frwdom  «  actum  and  a  disregard  of  current  social  stand- 
ards which  were  destructive  to  an  eariier  conventional  view 
of  things.  Following  him  through  this  Chicago  fight,  she 
had  been  caught  by  the  ironder  of  hit  dreams;  he  was  on 
the  way  toward  being  one  of  the  woHd's  greatest  money 

ifiants.  During  his  recent  trips  East  she  had  sometimes 
elt  that  she  was  aUe  to  read  in  the  vast  of  hti  face  the 
intensity  of  this  great  ambition,  which  had  for  its  ultimate 
aim— herself.  So  he  had  once  assured  her.  Always  with 
her  he  had  been  so  handsome,  so  pleading,  so  patient. 

So  hm  she  was  in  Chicaeo  to-night,  the  guest  of  friends 
**,f^R«chdi«i,  and  standing  in  Cowperwood's  presence. 
rfky,  Mienteef'  he  and,  fiieiwlinf  a  oimiud  hnd. 

S49 


MiaOCOfY  RESOLUTION  TEST  CHART 
(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


/APPLIED  IIVHGE  I 

16M  East  Main  StrMi 

RochMter.  New  York      14609  USA 

(716)  «M  -  0300  -  Phon* 

(71C}  zas-ssaa-Fm 


THE  TITAN 

"When  did  you  arrive  in  town?  Whatever  brings  you 
here?"  He  had  once  tried  to  make  her  promise  that  if 
ever  her  feeUng  toward  him  changed  she  would  let  him 
know  of  it  in  some  way.  And  here  die  was  to-ni^ht — on 
what  errand?  He  noted  her  costume  of  brown  silk  and 
velvet— how  well  it  seemed  to  suggest  her  ca:-like  eracel 

**You  bring  me  here,"  she  replied,  with  an  indeimable 
something  in  Tier  voice  which  was  at  once  a  challenge  suid 
a  confession.  "  I  thought  from  what  I  had  just  been  reading 
that  you  mig^it  really  need  me  now." 

"You  mean—?"  he  inquired,  looking  at  her  with  vivid 
eyes.  There  he  paused. 

"That  I  have  made  up  my  mind.  Besidct,  I  ought  to 
pay  some  time." 

''Berenice!"  he  exclaimed,  reproachfully. 

"No,  I  don't  mean  that,  either,"  she  replied.  "I  am 
sorry  now.  I  think  I  understand  you  better.  Besides," 
she  added,  with  a  sudden  gaiety  that  had  a  touch  of  self- 
consolation  in  it,  "I  want  to*** 

"Berenice!  Truly?" 

"Can't  you  tell?'  she  queried. 

"Wen,  then,"  he  smiled,  holding  out  hit  hands;  and,ito 
hi'  amazement,  she  came  forward.  .... 

"I  can't  explain  myself  to  myself  quite,"  she  added,  m  a 
hurried  low,  eaeer  tone,  "but  I  couldn't  stay  away  any 
longer.  I  had  the  feeling  that  you  might  be  going  to  lose 
here  for  the  present.  But  I  want  yoa  to  go  •omewnere  dae 
if  you  have  to— London  or  Paris.  The  wofU  won't  uadei^ 
tiioA  us  quite — but  I  do." 

"Berenice!"  He  snm^red  her  dieek  and  hair. 

"Not  so  close,  please.  And  there  aren't  to  be  any  other 
ladies,  unless  you  want  me  to  change  my  mind." 

"Not  another  one,  as  I  ho^ie  to  ke^  you.  You  win 
share  everything  I  kave.  .  .  .' 

For  answer —  ' 

How  strange  are  realities  as  opposed  to  ittusioiil 

m  EBTItOSPICT 

The  world  is  dosed  with  too  much  religion.  Life  is  to 
be  learned  from  life,  and  the  professional  moralist  is  at 
best  but  a  manufacturer  of  shoddy  wares.  At  the  ultimate 

5S0 


THE  RECOMPENSE 

remove,  God  or  the  KfSe  force,  if  anything,  it  aa  equa- 
tion, and  at  its  nearest  expression  for  man — the  contract 
social — it  it  that  also.  Its  method  of  expression  appears 
to  be  diat  of  generating  the  indtvidual,  in  all  his  glittering 
variety  and  scope,  and  through  him  progressing  to  the 
mass  with  its  problems.  In  the  end  a  balance  is  invariably 
struck  wiiereia  the  matt  subdues  the  individual  or  the  in* 
dividual  the  mass — ^for  the  time  bein(.  For*  behold,  the 
sea  is  ever  dandng  or  ranng. 

In  die  mean  dme  diere  nave  sprung  up  social  words  and 
phrases  expressing  a  need  of  balance — ot  equation.  These 
are  tight,  justice,  truth,  morality,  an  honest  mind,  a  pure 
heart— «U  words  meaning:  a  balance  must  be  struck.  The 
strong  must  not  be  too  strong;  the  weak  not  too  weak.  But 
without  variation  how  could  the  balance  be  maintained? 
Nirfinat  Ntnraaal  The  uldmate,  tdU,  equadoa. 

Rud^ing  like  a  great  comet  to  the  zenith,  his  path  a  blaz- 
ing trail,  Cowperwood  did  for  the  hour  illuminate  the  terrors 
and  wonders  of  individuality.  But  for  him  also  the  eternal 
eqnatkm-^e  padiot  die  discovery  diat  even  giants  are 
but  pygmies,  and  that  an  ultimate  balance  must  be  struck. 
Of  the  strange,  tortured,  terrified  reflection  of  those  who, 
caught  m  his  wake,  were  swept  from  the  mMmal  and  die 
commonplace,  what  shall  we  say?  Legislators  by  the  hun- 
dred, who  were  hounded  from  politics  into  their  graves;  a 
half-4iundred  aldermen  of  various  councils  who  were  driven 
grumbling  or  whining  into  the  limbo  of  the  dull,  the  useless, 
the  commonplace.  A  splendid  governor  dreaming  of  an 
ideal  on  the  one  hand,  succumbing  to  material  necessity  on 
the  other,  traducing  the  spirit  that  aided  him  the  while 
he  tortured  himself  with  his  own  doubts.  A  second  gover- 
nor, more  amenable,  was  to  be  greeted  by  the  hisses  of  the 
populace,  to  redre  brooding  and  discomfited,  and  finally  to 
take  his  own  life.  Schryhart  and  Hand,venomous  men  both, 
unable  to  discover  whether  they  had  really  triumf^ied,  were 
to  die  eventually,  puzzled.  A  mayor  whose  greatest  hour 
was  m  diwarting  one  who  contemned  him,Uv^  to  say:  "It 
is  a  great  mystery.  He  was  a  strange  man."  A  great  city 
stru^ed  for  a  score  of  years  to  untangle  that  which  was  aU 
mtt  Deyood  the  pofwer    aoludon^  true  Gordian  knot. 

SSI 


THE  TITAN 

And  diif  ^ant  himself,  rushine  on  to  new  struggles  a 
new  difficulties  in  an  older  land,  forever  suffering  the  gc 
of  a  restless  heart — for  him  was  no  ultimate  peace,  no  i 
understanding,  but  only  hui^er  and  dunc  and  wood 
Wealth,  wealth,  wealth!  A  new  grasp  of  a  new  gr 
problem  and  its  eventual  solution.  Anew  the  old  utgi 
thirst  for  life,  and  only  its  partial  quenchraant.  In  Drea< 
a  palace  for  one  woman,  in  Rome  a  second  for  another. 
London  a  third  for  his  beloved  Berenice,  the  lure  of  beai 
ever  in  his  eye.  The  lives  of  two  women  wrecked,  a  scon 
victims  despoiled;  Berenice  herself  weary,  yet  brillia 
tumine  to  others  for  recompense  for  her  lost  youth.  A 
he  resigned,  and  yet  not — loving,  understanding,  doubti 
caught  at  last  by  the  drug  of  a  petsooality  which  he  co 
not  gainsay. 

What  shall  we  say  of  life  in  the  last  analysis—  PeacC: 
still "  ?  Or  shall  we  battle  sternly  for  that  equation  wh 
we  know  will  be  mamtaiiMd  whedier  we  battle  or  no, 
order  that  the  strong  becmne  not  too  strong  or  the  W( 
not  too  weak?  Or  perchance  shall  we  say  (sick  of  d 
ness):  "Enough  of  thit.  I  will  have  strong  meat  or  di 
And  die?   Or  live? 

Each  according  to  his  temperament — that  sometn 
whidi  he  has  not  made  and  cannot  always  subdue,  ; 
which  may  not  always  be  subdued  by  ethers  for  him.  V 
plans  the  steps  that  lead  lives  on  to  splendid  elories, 
twist  them  into  gnaricd  sacrifices,  or  make  of  them  ds 
disdainful,  contentious  tragedies?  The  soul  within?  i 
whence  comes  it?  Of  God? 

What  thought  engendered  the  spirit  of  Circe,  or  eav< 
a  Helen  the  lust  of  tragedy?   What  lit  the  walls  of  Tr 
Or  prepared  the  woes  of  an  Andromache?  By 
counsel  was  the  fate  of  Hamlet  prepared?  And  why 
the  weUd  asters  plan  ruin  to  the  murderous  Scot? 

Double,  double  toil  and  trouble, 
l^re  bum  and  cauldroB  bubUc^* 

In  a  mulch  of  darkness  are  bedded  the  roots  of  end 
sorrows— and  of  endless  joys.   Canst  thou  fix  thine 
on  the  morning?   Be  glad.   And  if  in  the  ulamat 
blind  thee»  be  gUd  aliol  Thott  hast  kved. 

TBI  BNO 


ruggles  and 
ig  the  goad 
ux»  no  real 
id  wonder, 
new  great 
old  urgent 
In  Dresden 
Bother.  In 
e  of  beauty 
i,  a  score  of 
t  brilliant^ 
>uth.  And 
doubtil^ 
ch  he  could 

-"Peace,  be 
ation  which 
le  or  no,  in 
»r  the  weaL 
ick  of  dull- 
nt  or  dkr 

something 
ubdue,  and 
him.  Who 
1  dories,  or 
them  dark, 
itfain?  And 

,  or  gave  to 
Us  of  Troy? 
vhzt  demon 
nd  why  did 


s  of  endlcn 
X  thine  ejre 
ultimate  it 


